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twordytings · 2 years

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Hi! Maybe I am little late to the party, but I saw your wish for the witcher prompts:)

"Why are you interrogating me?" For Witcher × reader:)

For the Love of Geralt

(Geralt x Reader)

Summary: You should’ve known better than to lie to Geralt of Rivia. When it comes to the Witcher and his tactics, though, he always finds a way to get the job done.

Word Count: 2,575

A/N: this has been sitting in my inbox for forever and i wanted to see what i could do with it. Life has been a rollercoaster lately and I needed to focus on myself but that doesn’t mean I lost my love for writing. Hope you guys like this and ty for 500 followers<3

“Why are you interrogating me?” you said to Geralt, arms crossed in front of you as you looked at him expectantly with a raised eyebrow. He had barged into your room without any warning after you had left to go… somewhere, earlier that day.

“Because this isn’t the first time you’ve lied to me about where you were going.” He was starting to think he should’ve advised Vesemir to bolt every door and window at Kaer Morhen.

“Lied to you? Why would I ever even need to fib about where I’m going?”

“If it involved chaos.” You had to readjust your posture after his response. There was no way in hell he could’ve known.

“Not sure I know what you’re talking about…” you’d sputtered all too fast, fidgeting with your fingers as he hadn’t moved a muscle. The wolf was analyzing your every move - as he always did - and could tell you were lying through your teeth.

The only reason he could read you so easily was because of the fact that he had known you for so long. On that horrible day full of bloodshed and carnage ten years ago, he’d seen you amid all the rubble and wreckage around you. Your yellow eyes pierced his… and he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The Witcher himself was astonished by the mere likes of you. You were small, frail, fragile - but only to him. To everyone else, you were a genetic weapon made by your own father (which was a story that took a good while to get out of you). But you wouldn’t have told anyone else other than him; you’d noticed over time that many were afraid of him, which was odd, since the second your eyes met, you almost cried at the sheer relief which took over you. You felt a sense of comfort in his presence, which was something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Jaskier had actually thought you were mute when the two of you had first met. When he’d realized you wouldn’t even let out a peep he’d said “Great. You’re just like him!” and walked away with a huff. Not long after, though, the two of you became quite close. What used to be an even more annoyed bard and a Geralt Jr. was now a pair that couldn’t be outmatched.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Now, spill… before I play your ribs the same way Jaskier plays his lute.”

Your eyes widened at his threat, which he noticed, but you weren’t going to embarrass yourself by standing in front of the man any longer.

“I’m leaving,” you said with a sigh as you began to turn your back towards the Witcher.

It took all but a second for him to take hold of your arm; not pulling you towards him, but not letting go of his grip. You turned around to face him with an irritated look, assuming he’d give it a rest and let go. It could be marked as a talent: the number of ridiculous assumptions you made.

“You think I won’t do it?” Geralt said to you with a glint in his eyes and a smile that no one other than you and Jaskier would’ve been able to detect.

“Do what? Tickle me? I’m terrified,” you said with an ounce of sarcasm. It was a rarity for Geralt to ever tickle you, as everyone and their mother knew he wasn’t the most playful person around. It was usually Jaskier that would poke your stomach or trap his fingers in the crook of your neck when you were being a nuisance. He was that of an annoying older brother, and with a relationship such as that, you were practically never on the same page. You and Geralt, on the other hand, were a unit. You work together, think together, and solve issues as one. Therefore he’s never really had a reason to tickle the snot out of you as Jaskier so often does. Conflict was uncommon in yours and Geralt’s relationship - besides times like these, of course.

The barely noticeable smile of Geralt’s turned into a plain smirk, which told you he wasn’t going to let you go anytime soon. You began to panic a bit, attempting to tug away from him as discreetly as you could, but he wasn’t budging, and his smirk hadn’t faded. He hadn’t even needed to move an inch from where his feet were planted on the ground to hold you back.

“You going to tell me?” He was smiling now, and your sarcasm from earlier was beginning to be a load of bull. You were terrified. With Jaskier, it was always banter that was the catalyst for all your incessant tickle fights. But now, with Geralt, he wanted information - the truth, specifically - and you had no chance against him for it to be considered a ‘fight.’

“Geralt let go!” you seethed with a grunt as you were now yanking yourself from his grip. It was futile. But you couldn’t tell him what you were really doing when you left earlier that day.

“Fine. Be that way.” In one swift movement, he had your back against his chest as he fell backward onto your bed.

“Wait! No! Geralt plehehease don’t do this!” You could handle it when Jaskier did it, but Jaskier was a bard. A human bard. And Geralt was a Witcher… only the Lord above could’ve saved you at this point.

He had grabbed a hold of your upper arms with one of his, so your hands were technically free. Even then, all you could do was hold onto his arm and brace yourself for the inevitable.

“Ready?” he hummed into your ear. You shivered at the mischief you’d detected in his voice.

“Ihi am going to guhut you like a fish when I- WAHAIT HEHEHEHEY!” And just like that, you were a puddle of mush. He had done exactly what he said he was going to, strumming his fingers rapidly against your ribs as if he were Jaskier and you were his lute. The shrieks you let out could have very well attracted a monster or two, but Geralt didn’t seem to care.

As much as you’d wanted to escape his arms at that moment, you couldn’t say you felt safer in anyone else’s.

He paused the attack, stilling his fingers yet resting them on your ribs.

“Go on, then.”

“Ihihi won’t,” you said looking up at him, not being able to help the giggles that every so often spilled out of you.

“Hmm. Okay.” He remained in eye contact as he dug back into your ribs, smiling evilly as he did so. High-pitched giggles soon rang in his ears, but he remained persistent. “I’ve seen how Jaskier does this. If this one isn’t working… I’ll just try a different spot. You seem to have a lot,” he said with a soft chuckle. He was loving this; who knew how long he would go if you kept your ruse going?

“NOHO! OKAY IHILL TEHEHELL YOU!” You heard him chuckle from above you, which wasn’t something you’d heard from him often. You couldn’t help but feel happy that you were making him happy; even with the torture you were currently enduring.

“Alright. I’ll wait…” He was grinning, but you obviously couldn’t see it. The thing with you and Geralt - the main reason you and him had a bond like no other… was that you were both terribly alike. You were both made into weapons, both having to become something you’d never asked to. A relationship of shared trauma would be the correct name for it. The same way you had loved to see even the smallest smile grace Geralt’s, he adored whenever the same happened with you. You’re both the type to avoid seeming even the slightest bit happy; it was almost a competition between the two of you to make each other crack a smile every now and then. You would never force a laugh out of each other, but when it did happen, it was as if a spark would ignite. Everyone else felt the same way, because everyone, although they were not there for it, knew what the two of you had gone through. Everyone else took you two so seriously when you never even asked for it. You were forced to act and behave the way you did because acting any other way just wouldn’t make sense. No one would ever see you as a girl, and no one would ever see him as a man. You were hunters; it’s in your blood.

“Get off of me first,” you said with a quick push to his arm.

“Absolutely not.” He knew you would try something if he released his grip even the slightest bit.

“Fine. I was practicing.” He looked down at you with a raised eyebrow, but quickly caught on and switched to a face of dissatisfaction. “With-” you sighed heavily. “With Yennifer.” You looked up at the man from the tight grasp he’d never stopped holding you in. His expression didn’t change much. You’d always hated how you could never visibly tell what Geralt was thinking. His expressions typically remained quite stoic, and those bright yellow eyes you’d found so familiar were now piercing through your own.

“Practicing…”

“Chaos.”

“Practicing chaos. You were practicing chaos with Yennifer after telling me you were just taking a walk.” You didn’t respond, because he wasn’t asking a question. Simply hearing the words come out of his mouth was enough to make you feel as guilty as anyone could. He wasn’t one to ask questions. Besides, it was either answer or be tickled senseless. “You didn’t tell me. You could’ve been-”

“I’m sorry I lied! I knew you and-”

“Stop.” He’d cut you off the same way you had earlier, letting go of you but switching you in a position to where you were sitting up and facing him. He’d taken a look at your face for the first time in the last five minutes, and he wanted to slap himself across the face when he saw a tear ready to fall in the corner of your eye. Never once had he seen you cry since that first day he had seen you; well, saved you would be a better way to put it. You weren’t crying just because you felt guilty, but because you had betrayed his trust in you. You didn’t even think he himself knew just how much he meant to you. Who knew where you would be right now if he hadn’t been there for you? “Practicing chaos is the last thing you need to be doing right now. You could’ve killed yourse-” He’d figured he shouldn’t finish his sentence. He wasn’t trying to scare you, but he also wasn’t going to let you become exactly what your father had planned to make out of you. “Y/n, your powers… you don’t need to prove anything. To anyone.”

“B-but I want to help you, Geralt.” The tear from earlier had finally dropped down your cheek. You quickly swiped it away, but your tears were rolling steadily now. His expression softened at the way your voice had changed. He could hear the youth spill out of your voice like lava erupting through the cracks of a volcano. Like a child that was afraid of losing the only thing that ever truly meant anything to them. Because that was what you were: a child. A child that had to force herself to mature all because of a man that wanted power; a man that wanted the upper hand at the cost of his own daughter’s life and dignity. “All my life, I’ve been outcasted. Everyone- including my father, was terrified of my mere existence. You didn’t have to do what you did that day, but you did. I don’t know how I could ever repay yo-”

“Never,” he cut you off aggressively. “You will never need to. Look at me.” You had stopped to wipe your tears more often now in an attempt to uphold any composure at all but quickly looked up at Geralt after the order. “The way you needed me that day… I had needed you just the same.” Your eyebrows scrunched the slightest bit in a bout of confusion. “You owe me nothing. D’you understand?” You nodded your head softly, but firmly. “I don’t how else to explain it but-” he sputtered. “You are… me. You are mine. You have been since the moment I first saw you. Nothing you will ever- or could ever do will give you a reason to owe me,” he said with a shake of his head and a slight feeling of disgust at the mere idea of you repaying him for anything at all. “You never asked for this. You never asked to be poked and prodded at like some… lab rat. But everything you are is perfect. It is enough. You are enough. Alright?”

You didn’t know what else to do other than to tackle him into a hug. He was taken by surprise but didn’t hesitate to hold you even tighter with a soft smile of contentment as he did so.

You’d never loved someone as much as you’d loved him. It was a surprise that no one could truly see him the way you did. But you didn’t mind. No one deserved to experience the love of Geralt; not even you. The same way he saw you as enough was the same way that you saw him. But to you he was everything. He gave you everything you’d always longed for: the feeling of being wanted.

It had been a good minute or so, but the two of you were still in a tight hug. It was also the first time you had so affectionately hugged Geralt; it was mainly because neither of you was used to the affection. “Affection” between the two of you was usually a quick side hug here and there, so this was an entirely new occurrence. It being so new also happened to make it a little bit overbearing.

“Alright Y/n, you can let go now,” he said, holding you by your shoulder to pull you away from him.

“No. I’m comfy now,” you mumbled into his chest. He knew you were pulling his leg.

“Hmm,” he grunted in annoyance. “Off. Now.” You didn’t respond, so he sent you a quick poke to the rib.

“Ow!”

“You know better than to say that hurt.” You sent him a quick glare, looking through your eyebrows.

“Then I won’t say anything at all,” you quipped with a one-sided smile.

“That’s what I thought. You alright?” He had noticed your sudden change in demeanor. You were getting in your head again; he was always able to tell what going on in your mind.

“I’m afraid. A-Afraid the people who worked for my dad will come for me.” Geralt’s expression softened. You looked up at him to make eye contact as you felt your throat begin to choke up yet again. “I don’t want to be an experiment again, Geralt.” All of the memories you had were flooding back, but you held your composure the best you could. Crying once in a day was enough.

“And you won’t.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because you have me now.”

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twordytings · 2 years

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Do u do roleplay with people on tumblr

not anymore lols

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twordytings · 2 years

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i- i have no words. the amount of butterflies i just got holy fuck-

The Perfect Alibi

~12,100 words of (AG/TASM) Peter Parker x reader fluff

Pairing: Peter Parker x female reader

CW: Swearing, blood/wound, alluding to (Gwen’s) death

If you went back less than two years and told your fresh-out-of-high-school self that you’d soon become the fake girlfriend of a vigilante, you’d… well, to be honest, you’d probably have found it cool.

Maybe ‘cool’ wasn’t the right word. More… unconventional.

It was the perfect arrangement. You both got exactly what you needed: an excuse, a reason, a justification for your actions.

It’s a ruthless, cutthroat job market out there and, after getting a full-ride scholarship Columbia University, which was widely regarded as the best school for science in New York, you knew these next four years were for focusing hard, studying harder, and getting the best grades possible. Bonus if those grades got you valedictorian.

Sure, maybe it had been a pipe dream to be valedictorian of your class but after topping almost all of your freshman courses, you gained more confidence in that crazy idea that you could just maybe do it. It would look stellar, unbeatable even, on job applications. Hell, maybe you wouldn’t even have to apply, and they’d all come crawling to hire you.

You’d created a list (found in the back page of your journal which you only wrote the most important things in) of non-negotiable ways to ace the college life.

1. No dating

2. No drugs/alcohol

3. No dating

4. Find like-minded friends, keep the circle small

5. NO DATING!!!

6. Don’t skip class under any circumstances. Even if you’re dead.

The list was your bible, and it had clearly served you well. However, at the beginning of your sophomore year… it started. The few close friends you’d made, Dana especially, starting probing into why you never dated. There were admittedly a number of people on campus you found attractive, some of them you even had a spark with, but you suppressed any emotion, snuffing any potential flame before it started. Whenever you tried to explain that your high-school relationship had almost cost you your SAT results due to the distraction of it, Dana and Sam would wave it off as you being a dumb teenager and point out that you‘re clearly better adjusted now, if not having gone too far in the opposite direction.

They pestered and pestered, obviously with their hearts in the right place but you were getting to the point where you were nervous that showing up to hang out with them would result in you being tricked into a blind date - that’s how persistent they were. They’d tell you whenever someone asked whether or not you were single, and you’d, without fail, say “Tell them I’m not available.” You were met with eye-rolls, admonishing stares, the occasional begging for you to give them a chance. You held firm. Half a semester into your sophomore year, they started worrying about you a little more, asking if you were nervous about dating, if you’d give it shot, did you not like anyone? It was okay if you didn’t. They just wanted you to be happy, not at all understanding the pressure you were under to keep your grades up to keep your scholarship. Almost at the breaking point, you considered going on just one date to shut them up for a while.

Then, one night, the perfect solution climbed through your window.

It was lucky your roommate’s girlfriend lived ten minutes from campus, effectively rending your room a single-person dorm. Seriously, you could count on one hand the number of nights Olivia spent in the dorm with you (and none of them were very pretty, considering she’d only sleep in her own bed when she and Remi were fighting). This particular night, all was well with their love so Liv was nowhere to be seen. It was early, around 2:00am, when someone jimmied open the latch on your fourth-story window.

You held your breath, dead silent, as your fingers closed around the Louisville Slugger aluminium bat you hadn’t used since you were nine but brought to college specifically for this reason. The blood pounded in your ears, your heart felt like it’d jumped into your throat, blocking any potential scream as the window between the two single beds slid open. A small grunt, a cough, a wheeze, then, a loud CLUNK brought a yelp through your lips as a tall, masked figured tumbled over your bedside table and onto your floor. The groan of pain told you he was injured, and the dim glow of the safety streetlights dotting the pavement outside illuminated the blue, the red, the webbed patterns, and you dropped the bat from shock. It fell in a muted clang to the floor beside the bed, ricocheting and softly whacking Spider-Man in the head.

“A-are you okay?” You gasped, instantly falling to your knees beside him. “You’re Spider-Man,” you stated the obvious, reaching up and scattering your hand around the beside table until you switched on the lamp. Once you did, another gasp left your lips when the brighter light revealed a large strip of blood pooling around his abdomen. “Can you hear me?” You took his masked head in your heads, looking at the blood stain slowly creeping, growing. He only responded with a groan. “Look, I-I know your identity is a secret so you can keep the mask, but you’ve gotta let me check out this wound.”

He groaned again, turning his head to look up at your face properly. “Oh man,” he breathed out, then tried to sit up. “Oh man, oh man,” he winced and grabbed his side, just at the bottom of the blood patch.

“I know first aid,” you let him sit up. “Look, I’m really not trying to-”

“I’ve gotta get outta here,” he coughed again, shakily planting one foot on the ground. “Wrong window, oh man.”

You winced, huffed and grabbed the first-aid kit from the bottom shelf of your bedside table, holding it up to show him. “Seriously, you can keep the mask on, but we have monthly dorm inspections and I can’t explain that much blood on my carpet without looking like a serial killer.” The frantic words tumbled through your lips in one long breath as you desperately hoped you weren’t going to have to report a dead vigilante in your room. Your chest heaved as you gestured to the drops making their way through his suit and splattering at his feet.

“Sorry- sorry!” He placed his other hand on his side as well, before looking over at your raised blinds. In a second he’d whipped up his wrist, shot a web at the cord, then yanked it down to cover your window. He looked down again at the blood, and you threw a towel to him. “Uh, thanks,” he winced again, “Ah, ah, ahhhh,” he breathed out, applying pressure to the patch. He sounded young.

“Will you let me see?”

He looked back up at you, and a small shift of his head to look at the first aid kit you’d opened told you he was considering it, then a lowering of his head and shoulders told you he’d resigned himself to it. “That would be nice,” he laughed nervously. “Man, sorry, you must’ve been so freaked out… some weird guy falling through your window. I promise I’m one of the good guys.”

Your mouth twitched into a nervous, wry smile as you beckoned for him to pull out the office chair which sat nestled in the desk at the edge of your bed. Having only gone to sleep an hour or two before after a night of trying to figure out the same damn physics question, your notes and failed attempts were strewn about the light oak desk. It was extra credit, to be fair, but the fact that it’d kicked your ass for four hours straight was enough for the sight of it to be discouraging.

“Mind the mess,” you sniffed, pulling Liv’s barely-used chair over to sit next to the vigilante. He turned his head as one hand went up to tug at a zipper on the back of his suit, just above the base of his neck.

“Looks complicated,” he said slowly, looking more intently as he worked the upper-half of his suit off his body, leaving his mask in-tact.

“Yeah, well,” you shrugged, biting your lip to distract from the heat pricking at your cheeks when he revealed his very toned chest and abdomen. “Something isn’t clicking. I’ll have another shot at it tomorrow and- ooh, ouch,” you let out a puff of breath as the five-inch gash was revealed. “Mind if I…?”

He nodded, “It doesn’t feel too deep. I can web it up.”

“Somehow that doesn’t seem sanitary,” you mumbled, shifting your glance upward to give him another wry smile, this one a bit more shy. “Does that stuff come out of you?” He laughed, which made you smile wider and blush as you picked up a cleaning pad and some rubbing alcohol from the kit. “Well, it didn’t seem like a stupid question.”

“No, you’re clearly not stupid,” he tilted his head, and something told you he was smiling behind his mask. Maybe you heard it in his voice.

“This is gonna sting,” you said, saturating the pad. “But judging by the news footage I’ve seen, you’ve got a pretty high pain tolerance.”

“They always show the videos of me getting my ass kick- AH!” He flinched with a sharp intake of breath when you pressed the pad directly onto his cut.

“Or maybe you don’t,” you teased. Which seemed impossible, right? Was this some kind of fever dream? Surely it wasn’t possible for Spider-Man to have accidentally stumbled into an Columbia dorm of all places. “Focus on my physics question,” you joked as you cleaned the wound, trying to assess how deep it was. You searched your brain for the information you’d learned at those first-aid courses, and came to the conclusion that it would probably be okay without proper medical attention. “At the risk of killing the best vigilante in the country, I think a bandage will do,” you looked up at him again, to find him focused on your question. He shifted the papers with his elbow, careful to not get blood on your notes, then you saw him lean in a little more. Taking the chance while he was distracted, you cleaned the wound completely and ripped open two large gauze pads.

“Your rounding isn’t wrong,” he suddenly spoke and you paused, moving your gaze from his gash to his mask. He looked at you for a second and then sighed, nodding back at the paper. “You wrote here, “rounding incorrect decimal?” … nah, that’s not it.”

“But my answer is so close to the one given. It’s only out by a fraction of a whole number. How could it not be a rounding issue?”

“These readings were taken in Antarctica, right?”

“Yeah, so? Centrifugal force on a sphere is-…” Then, it clicked. You let out a frustrated sigh. “Dahammit,” you whined and collapsed back into the chair. “Of course… the Earth isn’t a perfect sphere so it-”

“Centrifugal force isn’t the same around the globe, yeah. Something I’ll need to remember if I ever need to go up and take down Santa.”

“Right,” you scoffed a laugh and shook your head. As you placed the bandages, something occurred to you. He was good at science. He was on campus. He climbed in your window, clearly by accident. He sounded young.

He… could he?

It didn’t seem polite to ask. It didn’t seem like something you had the right to know-

“I gave it away, didn’t I?”

He said it solemnly but he didn’t sound upset. You took your lower lip between your teeth, not quite responding, just sticking the medical tape to his skin.

“Where’s your roommate?”

“She’s never here.”

You ripped off another piece of tape, swallowing thickly. He must go here. Maybe you knew him. Was this going to be a problem?

“Lucky. Mine will be back by now.”

You held your breath as you packed away the stuff. Your hands shook slightly, your nerves getting the best of you as you avoided looking up at his mask. Sensing your unease, he reached out a placed a gentle hand on your forearm.

“Can this stay between us?”

You paused, nodding furiously. “I’m good with secrets.”

“And with first-aid.”

“Sixteen-year-old me was considering med school.”

“What happened?”

“I’m too squeamish.”

He let out a surprised laugh and let go of your arm, and that whole thing kind of broke the tension. You half-grinned as you stood and replaced the kit underneath your bedside table.

“Thank you,” he stood and replaced the suit on himself with some effort.

“Thank you,” you stammered, turning back to him. “My uncle. He, uh, owns a small bodega in Queens. The last three Thanksgivings he tells the family how the heroic Spider-Man saved him from an armed robbery.”

He paused, only for a second, before zipping the suit back up behind him. “I’m glad I could help.” His voice was sincere, if not a bit abashed.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone this story. It’s the least I could do to help someone who’s actually making a difference. And, um, I might have some of my older brother’s clothes I stole if you need to change before going back into your dorm.”

You both stood in silence for a few long moments after you spoke the quiet part out loud.

“I’ve got a pack stashed on the roof.”

“Good,” you nodded, crossing your arms in front of your pyjama top. “I take it you’ll be going out the window considering boys aren’t allowed on this floor after 11pm?”

He hung his head, but you heard a small chuckle, which made you need to suppress a cheeky smile.

“Thanks for the reminder.”

You stood aside as he approached, letting him pass you. He removed the webs from your blinds and switched off your lamp before letting the fabric fling up into its rolled-up position. He crawled out the window and just before he closed it again, he turned to you, that smile evident in his voice, and said:

“I’ll see you around.”

There wasn’t really a hope of easily going back to sleep after that encounter. You actually had half a mind to march yourself down to the medical unit to get checked out, wondering if you’d studied too hard and given yourself hallucinations to make life less math-y.

You managed to catch an hour or two of sleep before your alarm went off, and when you planted your feet on the floor your eye immediately caught the droplets of blood on the carpet. It had happened. Spider-Man had been in your room, you’d patched him up, he said he’d see you around. He practically admitted to being a student here. Which was crazy. Insane. How on earth- why on earth...?

There was too much going on in your brain, too much to process, so you used his helpful hint to distract yourself with scurrying through the final stages of the physics question still strewn across your desk (thankful to see it was free of any bloodstains). Using the hint he’d given you, you cracked it in just under half an hour; just enough time to frantically brush your teeth in the shower, throw on some warm casual clothes, sling your bag over your shoulder and rush out the door as you shuffled the work into a folder as best you could.

If you walked fast you’d make it slightly early, which is how you liked to be, but this time, as you made the trek to your nine a.m. lecture, you found your eyes darting between every tall, slender, male student you saw. He could be any one of them, and everyone around you was none the wiser.

When one guy made eye contact with you, your breath caught in your throat and the immediate feeling searing through your gut was that it had to be him. But when you looked away, then looked back, he‘d turned his attention elsewhere. He looked a bit too tall anyways.

Physically shaking your head and blinking hard before you entered the lecture hall, you took a deep breath in. The second you stepped inside, you released it in overwhelming thankfulness - a sleepy grin came to your cheeks when you saw Dana and Sam sitting in your usual three, Sam beckoning you over with an extra cup on her writing desk. You trudged over, while trying to make it look like you weren’t trudging, but your best friends were too perceptive.

“Holy shit, dude,” Dana laughed, somewhat nervously. “Did you sleep last night?”

“Not really,” you mumbled, sliding in next to Sam, resisting the urge to kiss her passionately in thanks for the coffee she’d brought you, making sure to not accidentally kick the guy at the seat in front of you.

Sam sipped her coffee and raised an eyebrow. “Everything alright? Liv and Remi aren’t fighting, are they?”

“No… no,” you shook your head and wrapped your fingers around the coffee. You’d promised him. “This extra credit question got the better of me and I lost track of time. I figured it out, but I barely slept.”

“I suppose it was a pipe dream to hope that you’d been up late texting someone…” Sam sang, taking a rather sassy sip of her coffee.

“Or, you know, making out with them,” Dana tossed in, opening her laptop as the professor entered the room.

You laughed through your nose as you swallowed your own life-giving sip. “When have I ever given you two even and inch?” You pulled your own laptop out. “I’m not dating in college. End of story.”

“We’ll find you someone you can’t refuse.”

“Please don’t.”

“One date?”

“Hey, sorry to bother you.” The three of you looked down to the brown-haired guy who’d taken the seat directly in front of you. He smiled sheepishly and held out his empty hands. “I kinda forgot a pen. Do you have one I can borrow?”

He was looking directly at you, which made you furrow your brow in question as to why he was only asking you, but you were barely there, so in an automatic movement you reached into the outer pocket of your bag, “Uh, yeah, of course,” you smiled back and handed him a pen. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” he smiled, but it was more like a little grin, and it lingered for a second or two before the professor cleared his throat and began the class.

As you opened your notes document Sam nudged your elbow with her own. When you looked over, you were met with very enthusiastic wide-eyed friends who were mouthing “HE’S CUTE.” Instead of indulging them in yet another reason as to why they should respect your “No,” you rolled your eyes and turned your attention to the matter at hand: mechanical waves.

It was a gruelling three hour morning lecture slot, thankfully with a fifteen minute break in the middle of it to stretch your legs, refill water bottles, go to the bathroom, perhaps brave a mad dash to the closest coffee cart. Today, however, once the boy who’d borrowed your pen had absconded to do one of those things, Dana and Sam cornered you in your seat before you had much of a chance to stop them.

“He’s so cute,” Sam whispered loudly. “Did you see how he looked at you?!”

“Who doesn’t have a pen?” Dana scoffed excitedly.

Sam cut in, still looking at you. “Everyone has a pen.”

“He wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

“Or,” you ducked your head to the side. “He forgot his pen.” Before they could protest you help up a hand and declared you were braving that mad-dash, asking if they wanted anything. They declined, both with stern glares, so you chuckled and rushed out of the room.

The closest coffee cart was only a two minute power-walk, so the trick was beating the rest of the people who had the same idea. The line only had a few people in it by the time you got there, one of them being the boy who borrowed your pen. He was directly in front of you, but didn’t turn to see who’d taken the spot behind him. That was probably for the better, considering your head was so full of equations you doubted your ability to have any kind of social interaction. In no time, he was at the front.

“I’ll have uhhh, double espresso and,” he turned to you. “Whatever she’s having.”

“Oh!” You shook yourself out of an equation. “You don’t have t-”

“Consider it rent for the pen,” he chuckled. “Hurry up, these people need their caffeine.”

“Black,” you blurted out. “Black, no milk, no sugar. Thanks,” you smiled and rubbed your arm self-consciously as the boy paid and thanked the barista for the coffee. He held them both in his hands as he stepped several feet away from the line, forcing you to follow him to receive your drink. You held in a sigh, hoping this very nice boy wasn’t about to ask you out.

“One black coffee,” he smiled, handing it to you.

You slipped the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your palms before taking it. The cups at these places were always too thin. “Thanks, but… you really didn’t have to do that. It’s just a pen.”

When you met his eye, you saw him take a nervous breath in, release it, his face softened but like someone who had to deliver bad news. Something about his demeanour, his voice, his posture - you narrowed your eyes and tilted your head in curiosity.

“Then, uh… consider it an apology for the blood on your carpet.”

The blood in your own body immediately drained from your face, somehow still pounding in your ears, in your throat, even in your hands and feet. Your stomach surged with a sickly anxiousness as your chest heaved and you tried breathing through your nose.

“Hey, hey,” he placed a hand on your shoulder and you flinched, too rooted in your spot to take the backwards step you so desperately internally screamed at your foot to perform. You’d always had a hell of a flight instinct, but a bitch of a freeze response. “Are you okay? Sorry, that’s a lot to drop on you- I’m an idiot- sorry, sorry,” he ducked down to try catching your gaze as you calmed yourself down enough to brave looking up at him again. He had such kind eyes.

“I didn’t tell anyone,” you whispered.

“I know,” he removed his hand from your shoulder. “I heard your friends earlier. Thank you,” he nodded earnestly. “That means a lot.”

“Y-you didn’t have to show me your face.”

“I know, but…” he rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, this is gonna sound so stupid but it sounded so good in my head- I had this idea when I heard your friends talking - which, I wasn’t eavesdropping by the way, or not trying to, it kinda just happens with the whole spider thing - but I heard them giving you a hard time and I just thought-”

“I’m gonna need you to get to the point before I throw up.”

He froze, then let out the remainder of his breath. “Hear me out.” He gestured to you, “You have friends who won’t get off your back about dating,” he started.

Well, there came the blood returning to your face; the superhero knew you were an antisocial dweeb.

He then pointed to himself, “I have a roommate who keeps asking where I go so late at night.”

The second he’d spoken it aloud, it made sense. It made perfect sense. You instantly relaxed, which made him relax. Your head turned to the side in thought, a bit of a mischievous smile coming to your cheeks, despite all odds, and you admitted, “I like where this is going.”

You two shared a look, both fighting the excitement of the potential arrangement. He truly was a hero.

Other students began making their way back to the lecture theatre and so you two walked back together, whispering between yourselves, exchanging names. His name was Peter. Peter trusted you, and he knew he could give you what you needed, and you could give him what he needed. Ultimately, you both needed the same thing:

An alibi.

“I have a plan,” he grabbed your arm just before you two came into the line of sight of the people inside the hall.

“What is it?”

“You’ll see,” he nodded. You gave him a look. “Just- don’t tell them I bought your coffee.”

With that, he slipped past you and into the room. “Peter!” You called after him in a loud whisper, but he was already gone. You gave yourself a moment to laugh at the absurdity of this entire thing, ponder your existence, and make a good case as to why you really should go to the medical wing for a psych evaluation because no way in hell was this happening.

But there he was, sitting at the seat in front of you, twirling the pen expertly. You wondered if he was one of those people who’d looked up how to do the pen tricks in class, or if it was a result of the whole Being Spider-Man Thing.

Just like sleeping the night before, focusing in class was some unobtainable pipe dream. This time you didn’t try forcing it upon yourself, instead giving yourself a gentle reminder that you could always listen to the recording later and it was okay to be kind of freaking out about this.

Peter seemed calm. Far too calm for someone who just revealed their secret identity to someone he’s met literally one time before. He seemed so sure… maybe there was some kind of super-intuition to go along with his powers. God, his powers. How did he get them? How long has he had them? Did he seek them out, or was it an accident? A billion questions raced through your mind, unlike the professor’s voice which went in one ear and out the other, and you couldn’t stop wondering how it all worked and if you’d ever be able to ask him.

Time flew as you zoned out of the teaching and in no time everyone around you was making to pack up their things. Peter stood up and turned to where you were closing your laptop lid. He placed the pen on your table and slid it towards you, leaving his hand on top of it.

“I owe you one,” he smiled.

Your heart pounded as you locked eyes with him, your tongue subconsciously slipping out to wet your nervous lips. “I-it’s just a pen,” you repeated the earlier sentiment.

“Yeah, but,” he shrugged. “Who knows, if I hadn’t taken those notes I might have failed this class and flunked out and ended up in some dead-end job I hate, no hope of happiness in my career or paying off my now-useless student loans…” he let himself trail off. You laughed once through your nose and suppressed a grin as best you could as you reached over and took the end of the pen his hand wasn’t covering.

“So you’re saying I saved your life?”

“You’re a hero,” he smirked knowingly. “The least I could do is buy you a coffee.”

You nodded to the table next to you, “I have a coffee.”

“Dinner, then.”

You laughed from pure surprise, and maybe a little bit from the nearly inaudible squeak you heard leaving Sam’s mouth as she turned away and poorly pretended that she wasn’t listening. Oh, he was good. You narrowed your eyes at him for a few moments before letting your smile turn mischievous and you tugged the pen from his grasp.

“Considering I saved your life… it better be a nice dinner.”

Needless to say, Sam and Dana damn near exploded when you three left the room together. You were grinning, caught in a flurry of fanatical friends declaring how proud they were of you, how cute he was, what were you going to wear?! Did you want Sam’s help doing makeup? She’s really good at it and she wouldn’t make it look too much and-

“Guys,” you laughed, hoisting your bag higher. “It’s no big deal. It’s one dinner.”

“No big deal?!” Dana whisper-shouted. “You just said yes to a date.”

“With a really cute guy!”

“Yeah, and I’m sure it’ll be nice and fun, he seems cool,” you smiled and checked your watch. “I need to get to Bennett’s office hours but I’ll catch you guy later.”

They begrudgingly let you go, walking off together while chatting about lunch.

On your way to Professor Bennett’s office, you tried making those extra credit notes just a little bit tidier, letting your mind wander to this strange arrangement you were about to enter into. How would it work? What would you do together? What do you say to your friends, your family?

All those questions were answered later, around midnight, when there was a noise at your window for the second night in a row. You were sitting on your bed studying, the blind was drawn but there was only one person it could be. You opened your window and Peter crawled in with much more grace than than his previous entrance. He was just in jeans and a zip-up sweatshirt, so the powers must be him and not the suit.

“How’s your cut?” You asked as he drew the blind. He listed his shirt, revealing that toned core once again, and showed you a wound that looked more like a scar at this point.

“Much better,” he dropped it. “Thanks for cleaning it out, I’m not too great at that and it’s a mess when it’s not done right. Sorry you had to do that.

“No, no, it’s fine,” you sniffled a laugh and crossed your arms over your stomach, still finding yourself somewhat tongue-tied in his presence.

Desperate to fill the awkward silence, Peter clicked his tongue, “Should we figure this thing out?”

“Yeah!” You jumped.

“You sure?” He lifted an eyebrow. “You alright?”

“Yeah, good- I’m good,” you assured. “So how do you see this working?” You perched on the edge of your bed, Peter mimicked your movement on Liv’s white comforter.

“You and I say we’re dating. Boyfriend and girlfriend. That way your friends don’t pester you to find someone and, as an added bonus, if you ever want time away from them to study you can say you’re with me,” he said. You nodded in thought. “And my roommate is getting way too suspicious about why I come back so late, so I can say I was with you,” he nodded back.

“Okay, but we also have to sell it,” you cut in. “We can’t just say we’re dating and then never be seen together.”

“Good point. We should probably go on some dates.”

“One meal out in a public visible place each week, and we can do our work in the library together. That’s an easy two-for-one.”

“You’re a huge nerd, aren’t you?”

“That’s no way to talk to your girlfriend,” you playfully shot back. He chuckled, you smiled. Feeling the anxiety alleviate, and the comfort he radiated filling the space between you, your smile was genuine, and weirdly excited. This would work.

And it did work. Really well, in fact.

You went out to your first dinner together the very next evening at a casual restaurant close to campus. There, you covered the basics. Home, families, you were on a scholarship and he was too. He went to a dedicated school for science so when you asked why no MIT he explained he couldn’t bear to leave New York; he had a lot of history here and even though the city had taken much from him, he couldn’t bear to leave. He didn’t elaborate on what that meant, but you got the feeling that, whatever happened, it still hurt him.

Much to your surprise, you felt confident and comfortable enough around him to brave asking how he got his powers. Though as the night went on, and he told you stories, and you keenly listened and asked questions that made him think and laugh and tell more stories, you couldn’t quite believe your luck. Because here was someone you were about to spend a lot of time with, and you genuinely liked him as a person. Thank goodness Spider-Man wasn’t a pompous asshole. That would’ve sucked.

You also took the chance to establish some ground rules and ways for him to work around his roommate. You recounted the tales of Liv and Remi, and you two agreed that if for whatever reason he couldn’t sneak in your window one night, the blind would be closed. Be it that Liv was back or something else was going on, he wasn’t to enter unless it was open.

When it came to the whole “selling it” part of your relationship, you both felt sure enough to be flirty and cozy in public, give each other hugs, he‘d put his arm around you, the very innocent list went on. You would do those study dates in the library, and he’d have to make a bit of effort with your friends and you with his, otherwise they’d resent the other for stealing their friend away.

“Man, this is getting complicated,” you laughed nervously, pulling your coat on as you two walked out of the restaurant. “But I think it’ll work.”

The hopeful disbelief in your voice made Peter laugh, and he threw his arm around your shoulders just as the late-autumn air started nipping at your neck. Seamlessly, you put your arm around him and you two walked across campus keeping each other warm.

That very same night Peter went out on his patrol, and he snuck back in through your window just before three in the morning. He was quiet. It only woke you because it was such an unsettling sound. But those nights started happening frequently and that early hour shift of the pane soon blended into your dreams most evenings.

During your library study dates, or when you were out eating your meals together, Peter would tease you for the way you snored, or the panda pyjamas you loved to wear. Sometimes you’d swat at him, though most times you were able to come up with a remark to shoot right back. He seemed to like that.

You learned a lot about Spider-Man, and a lot about Peter Parker, over the following months.

He was resilient. Even after the occasional night he’d slip into your window and his groan of pain would give his injury away, he’d shrug it off and insist he was fine. Sometimes he let you help. Whenever he did, though, he made sure to break the tension by commenting on the chubby pandas or lamenting that you weren’t wearing them. He’d crack lame jokes until your worry turned to exasperated humour and you were fighting a grin instead of fighting the urge to worry sick over him.

He was insanely smart. The guy went out five or six times a week to keep the city safe, returning home sometimes just before dawn. News story after article after op-ed explained how Spider-Man was cleaning up the streets but privately, Peter Parker was somehow still acing all his classes on three hours sleep and way too much coffee. Or maybe it wasn’t too much - super metabolism and all. Actually… it’s a wonder coffee even worked on him.

He was kind, and a good friend. Those nights you got dinner, or those mornings you got brunch, all to keep up appearances, he’d ask more about you. He wanted to know about your life, your interests and hobbies, what you wanted to do with your intellect. He was encouraging and helpful, and so caring. One night he returned to find you still awake, hunched over your desk, crying from stress. God, you felt so stupid to have him see you like that. But he didn’t make you feel stupid. He didn’t make you feel foolish for being upset over something you couldn’t figure out because he seemed to understand the way you doubted yourself and how much it killed you to feel incapable. It was your own version of powerlessness, and he said he knew all about feeling powerless. Seeing you were embarrassed to be actively crying in front of him, he said: “Put on your pandas. I’ll be back in ten minutes.” Ten minutes later, Peter crawled back through your window with a pint of chocolate-chip cookie dough ice cream and two of the tiniest spoons you’d ever seen. The sight of the fluorescent pink plastic spoons made you laugh, and laughing made you cry a little more just from being overwhelmed, but Peter chuckled and pulled you in for a warm hug. When he pulled away, he made fun of you for the panda pyjamas.

Around the time you two celebrated four months of fake dating, some kind of guilt started tugging at your chest. It was something you’d been thinking about for a while and it had never seemed like the right time to say anything about it. Though one Saturday morning, over surprisingly good pancakes in the cafeteria, you noticed a girl from your class and her stare lingering on Peter for a few seconds too long for someone who wasn’t interested. She was beautiful. You’d met her once, in passing really, but she seemed really sweet. Smart, too. Peter didn’t seem to notice her, happily chatting away to you about an armed robbery he’d foiled the night before. Or, you thought he was, but his hand waving to you made you snap back into the moment with small puff of air.

“Sorry, Peter” you sniffed and turned to your pancakes, realising you’d barely touched them.

“I guess you’ve heard one too many stories of heroism lately,” he smiled kindly, albeit sheepishly.

“Not at all,” you smiled. “I like your stories. I‘ve… I’ve just been thinking about this whole thing and…” you sighed and didn’t quite meet his eye.

“Hey,” he reached his hand across the table, not grabbing yours, just enough to pull your focus upwards.

You sighed deeper. “I don’t want to hold you back if there’s someone you actually want to date.” Your gaze turned back to the swirling mess of melted butter and syrup. “You’re a great guy. Anyone here would be lucky to date you a-and I don’t want you to feel like you can’t.”

Peter was silent for several long moments, retracting his hand and sitting back to press himself into the leathery cushions of the booth. When you looked back up at him, he was looking out of the window into the busy courtyard. Even though the snow had just melted, students gathered around tables chatting and laughing over breakfast, blissfully unaware this seemingly-ordinary student had single-handedly stopped a shop-owner from losing a night’s takings, and potentially much more than that.

“I’m, uh-… I’m not ready. For anything like that,” he sniffed, pulling himself away from a memory of someone before looking at his own nearly-empty plate. He averted his eyes and chuckled sadly, “It’s been two yehears but I still… it feels wrong to think about another girl that way.”

You were smart. You could tell this pain was far more than just a bad breakup. This was true loss.

“I’m happy with you,” he finally looked up, eyes noticeably glassy but nothing more than that. “I can be myself around you and there’s no pressure, and it’s fun and it’s so weird that we’re doing this,” he laughed again, and he looked at you, urging his sincerity. “But this is exactly what I need right now.”

You smiled sadly, feeling a little bad for bringing this up, still grateful to know that even in some small way, you truly were helping him too.

The scheme continued to great success. Your friends were happy that you were so happy, they liked Peter - really liked him, and you got some unequivocally blissful, silent study time when you were supposedly with him but he was actually webbing crooks to brick walls and calling the cops on them with their own phones. Peter’s roommate liked you and liked that you kept Peter away from the dorm, giving him the chance to bring whoever he liked over. You giggled abashedly when he’d told you that but he was so confident in his statement that you had to respect the machismo.

There had only been a handful of nights your blind had been closed when Peter came around. One of them you‘d fallen asleep at your desk and forgotten to open it, the other you were holding and comforting a sobbing Liv as she lamented over Remi apparently texting another girl. It was all a misunderstanding, apparently, which was little solace to Peter who had to strip and change on the roof when it was covered in snow.

All in all, you were making it work.

Then, the day came when it all threatened to unravel.

“Peter, nine-one-one, get to my dorm now!” You’d hung up as soon as you‘d made the demand, then tossed your phone down on the bed and paced back and forth across the carpet. His damned bloodstains never fully came out and they were all you could focus on as you took your thumbnail between your teeth, wrapping your arms protectively around yourself. In less than a minute, a breathless Peter burst into your room. You were so used to having him come through the window that you gave a startled yelp when he near-crashed through your door.

“What’s wrong?!” He panted. With one hand ready to shoot a web, his eyes darted around your room to assess it for any threats, only finding a very upset you with your arms folded over your stomach and a worried-sick look on your face. “Hey-hey-hey, what happened?” His battle posture dropped as he took on his own worried look. He shut the door and strode over to you, placing his gentle hands on each of your upper arms.

“The worst thing possible,” you breathed out shakily.

He looked back and forth between your eyes, urging you to continue.

“We have to go on a double date tomorrow night.”

His worry immediately turned into confusion, then into disbelief, then his hands dropped from your arms and he opened his mouth but couldn’t quite find the words - kind of a first for him, in your experience. You started blurting out the chain of events before he had the chance to turn tail and run.

“Dana asked what I was doing tomorrow night and I said hanging with you, obviously, and she asked what we were doing and I stupidly said we didn’t know yet “probably watch a movie” - that’s what I said - and she was like “oh, if you don’t have plans then we should totally go on a double date” and I had no good reason to say no and I panicked and-and-and said yes, and now we have to-”

His hands met your shoulders again, his features hesitant, and it stopped you in your tracks. You panted from the nerves, from the lack of breathing in your retelling. Peter grimaced and lowered his voice to a whisper to tease, “You’re scaring me.”

Your worry turned into a scowl when you saw the amusement behind his eyes. With a small grunt of frustration you shoved his hands off of you and looked out the window.

“Hey, it’s not a big deal,” he said calmly. “It’ll be fine.”

“Fine? Fine?!”

“Oh no-”

“Peter, we know big picture things, family, friends, aspirations, but there’s no way we know enough about each other to convincingly play a couple who’s been together for nearly five months.”

“Then we’ll study,” he declared with a nod.

“Study?”

“I’ll give you a crash-course in Peter Parker, and you can do the same. You and I get along great, we’re comfortable around each other, convincing Mike and Dana we’re in love will be a piece of cake.”

“Well,” you mumbled, “Love is kind of a stretch. It’s only been five months.”

“Oh, trust me,” he grinned, taking steps back towards the door. “If I’d given you the full Peter Parker experience, you’d be head over heels right now.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Is that so?”

“Absolutely. Hey, I’ve got class but I’ll be back in two hours,” he opened the door to leave and you opened your mouth to maybe protest, maybe ask him to skip class and start studying now, but he pointed to you with one foot out the door, “The vege sub from that weird little shop you like? No pickles? I’ll bring dinner.” And with that, he was gone.

To distract yourself, and to make good use of the time while Peter learned more Spanish, you started looking up relationship quizzes, get-to-know-you questions, lists of things to ask the other person before you get married - quite literally any content you could get your hands on. Then, you stumbled across the holy grail: an app.

IceBreak was free - it had a few ads but, whatever - and it landed on your phone‘s Home Screen with an icon showing a minimalist ice cube adorned with a small crack. The reviews said it was fantastic - that there were conversation starters for friends, family, new relationships, long-term relationships, roommates, almost every way a human could be connected to another. You were sifting through some of the questions, smiling as your heart lifted, when a knock on the door commanded your attention. You called for Peter to come in, recognising the way he seemed to always knock.

“One vege sub for my beautiful girlfriend,” he charmed with a cocky smile. You fought the urge to stammer and blush, but didn’t fight it very well. Peter‘s smile turned into a grin and a laugh as he closed the door with his foot. “You can’t act like you’ve never heard that before.”

“I know, it’s just… been a while,” you blushed harder and started unwrapping the sandwich. “How was class?”

“Couldn’t tell you, I was dreaming up the new schematics for this,” he bumped his eyebrows and pulled a small device from his backpack. “New and improved web-shooter.”

“Let me see.”

He handed it to you and sat beside you on your bed, both of your backs against the wall. His feet hung well over the other side’s edge, so he didn’t bother taking off his shoes. You’d since changed into a faded long-sleeved shirt and some workout leggings, even though you hadn’t worked out in way too long. You tucked your feet underneath your legs as you sat up and inspected the device. It did look more streamlined than the previous model. You knew better than to test it, knowing there was an unexpected kick Peter was keenly attuned to, so you handed it back to him with an impressed nod. You sucked your teeth and smirked to yourself before saying, “Espero que valga la pena reprobar español.”

He chuckled and winked, “Ya soy fluido.”

You showed him the app and let him focus his eyes on tinkering with the web shooter, picking up minuscule tools from his small tool kit, as you two exchanged answers to all the basic questions people in a relationship would realistically know about each other.

Favourite colour, flower, movie, dream vacation location, would you rather go to the moon or the bottom of the ocean, did you ever want to climb Mount Everest? What did you want to be when you grew up, and did that change? Why did it change? Do you think you’d be good at the job you wanted to do when you were six?

You went back and forth for over an hour, Peter successfully getting his shooter into an acceptable beta model.

“Morning person, or night person... I think we know the answer to that,” you bumped your eyebrows and pressed the NEXT button. One you had, Peter looked up at you with a worn look in his eye.

“I think we’ve studied enough.”

“No, we haven’t.”

“You’re forgetting I’ve got much more on the line here,” he laughed. “They’re not going to quiz us on each other. They won’t know if I don’t know your favourite colour.”

“Yours is green.”

“So is yours, but that’s beside the point.”

“Just a few more,” you pleaded. “For my peace of mind.”

“Five more,” he put the web-shooter down, giving in with a turn of his head against the wall to give you a firm stare.

“Fine,” you sighed and clicked the randomise button on the app. “What was your favourite place to go as a kid?”

“Easy. The skatepark,” Peter shrugged. “You?”

“The museum.”

“Wow. You’ve always been a nerd, haven’t you?” He teased. “Did you collect rock samples too?”

“Next question,” you glared, fighting a smile, settling back beside him so you could look at the phone together. This proved to be a mistake, proven by overwhelming desire you had to press the button again, fib that you’d already had that question, and ignore the new question that’d popped up on the screen.

Where are you most ticklish?

“Oh, uh… I think on my feet? I don’t know, bad guys tend to use knives and guns, not feathers. How ’bout you?” He asked it so casually, and he didn’t even look at you when he asked it. If you had the ability to act cool, calm and collected you may have been able to rationalise that Peter was not considering acting on the knowledge he was seeking, but the lie tumbled through your lips before you had the chance to use that rational part of your brain.

“Umm- I-I’m not,” you cleared your throat, wondering if there was possibly a more obvious way to tell that lie.

“You’re not telling me?”

He turned his head. Oh no. You didn’t return the look. Instead, you shrugged, “No, I’m not ticklish,” you mumbled, swallowed thickly and pressing your thumb against the random button. Peter stayed looking at you, and you could’ve sworn he was smirking in your peripheral vision. “Okay! When did you have your first kiss?” You braved turning to look at him, hoping it looked innocent enough. He didn’t respond right away, instead narrowing his eyes. You nodded to urge him to answer, and he cracked a cheeky grin.

“The summer between eighth and ninth grade. At Camp Riverside in Maine. You’re lying to me.”

“I haven’t even told you about my first kiss.”

He raised his eyebrows, and before you could react his fingers were at your side. You gasped at the contact and shifted to move away before realising he hadn’t made any attempt at tickling you.

“You little liar!” He laughed and a whimper slipped through your lips as he made no moves to take his hand off you. “How are we supposed to convincingly play a loving couple if you won’t be honest with me?” He punctuated his teasing rhetorical question with a dig of his fingers, making you jump and squeak. “Secrets can destroy a relationship, you know,” he said as if he were serious, squeezing your side a few more times as giggles bubbled up from your chest and you shot your hand down to close around his fingers. “I mean, really?” He clicked his tongue, beginning to shift to face you. Your eyes widened and you began stammering.

“Wa-wait, wait, Pete,” you laughed, nerves bringing a blush prickling to your cheeks. “They’re not gonna ahask about thihis,” you sniffled, still trying to push away his hand which had stilled at your side.

He shrugged and sighed deeply, feigning the despair of having no other choice. “But-but what if they do? I mean, we can’t get caught,” with a solemn shake of his head. “And you clearly can’t be trusted to be forthcoming with this information, so I might need to-”

“No, Peheter!” You tried to squirm away as he opted to finish his sentence not with an explanation, but with a demonstration. His other hand found your other side, and they both creeped up for him to lightly dig his fingers into your lowest ribs. Your elbows folded inwards and tried to shove him off as you fell into desperate giggles almost immediately. “NahanonoNO!” You tried turning in on yourself as his attack made your backside slide down from where you’d been sitting up. As much as you tried to press your arms against his hands to dissuade him, to push him off course, he still seemed unbothered by your attempts at self-defence. “PARKER!”

“You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”

“And youhou- YOU- AHA-” You kicked out and tried to turn onto your front as he brought his hands inwards to claw at the sides of your stomach. Completely involuntarily, you kicked out and caught his shin with your foot. “CUT IT OHOUT!”

He laughed and grabbed above your knee with one hand, squeezing the muscle between his thumb and middle finger, making you shriek and kick out again before his grip closed around your knee and pulled you further from the wall. “If you’d just answered the question I wouldn‘t be forced to extract this information from- woah!” He cut himself off with a laugh when his fingers were vehemently blocked from trying to wedge themselves under one of your arms. He yanked you even closer, your hips nearly over his legs, and got to work on prying your bicep away from your side. “What do we have here, huh?”

“Peter, so help m— AHH NO!” You growled and sent your knee punting into his stomach. He made a small grimace, but your strength wasn’t really something that could hurt him. “Back OFF, Web-Head!” You shouted through nervous giggles, trying your best to keep your arms clamped to your sides. He scoffed and paused his wrestling, giving you a mischievous look.

“Really? You’re gonna get cute with me?” He resumed his fighting, with much more strength than before. You squeaked and shook your head as he pulled you by your wrists to be sitting up. “Right now, you’re gonna get cute with me?!”

“Noho, I- Ihi wohon’t!” You laughed and squirmed nervously, but you were no match for his strength. With another swift tug, he lurched you forwards to be sitting between his legs. With a final yank, he turned you to be caught with your back against his chest, his legs ensnaring yours as he handled your wrists in his grip. “Peteher,” you sniffed, squirming as anxious giggles bubbled through your lips. “Thihis is so unfair!”

Before you could register what was happening, Peter grabbed your left bicep and pulled it away from your side with terrifying ease. Before you had the chance to gasp, squirm, or beg, his other hand shot around your waist, up your ribs and dug wiggling fingers into the soft space of your underarm. You shrieked out in laughter and arched your back away from him, thrashing in his trapping limbs.

“Woah-ho!” He laughed, letting your arm clamp down at your side with his tickling fingers worming deeper against the thin long-sleeved shirt. “Oh man, I’m never gonna let you live this d-”

SMACK!

You didn’t mean to slap him.

It was his fault, really. You tended to get involuntarily violent when tickled, even if you did secretly find the whole ordeal pretty fun and playful. Nevertheless, the open palm that’d met his jaw now covered your own gasping mouth, his hand beneath your arm stilled from the shock of your hit.

“I’m soho sorry,” you apologies through laboured breaths. “I dihidn’t mean to. I- HEY! Peter - NO!”

He, apparently, didn’t accept your apology. Because his right hand abandoned your underarm in favour of grabbing your own right hand, the one that had dared to slap him, and he pinned it to the wall above his shoulder. With widened eyes, you saw him pick up the web-shooter he’d been tinkering with and aim it at the hand he’d stuck above you.

“N-n-no! Don‘t you dare web me!”

Fwip.

“HEY! Get it off!” You yanked on your wrist, now webbed to the wall, gritting your teeth with a frustrated growl to hide the blush creeping into your cheeks. “Peter,” you whined, “Let my hand go.”

“Mmmno. That one’s in time out.”

In an instant, his fingers were lightly skittering at the fabric under your now-exposed arm. The sensation was light, just enough to be damn near unbearable, and your reaction was instant, dramatic, and, apparently to Peter, hilarious. He erupted into laughter alongside your squealing, breathy bursts of loud, shrieking giggles.

When your free hand swiped over at his tickling fingers, he closed around your wrist and held it just enough at bay that you couldn’t interfere with his torment. A growl of frustration resounded through your laughter that was pitching up every second he continued, and he spluttered in his own laughter when he found an especially sensitive spot just above your ribs that made you attempt to fly out from under your imprisonment.

“PETEHEHER!” You squeaked, sliding further down despite yourself, trying to twist away to no avail. “P-PLEHEASE!”

“Please what?” He teased, scratching just two fingers at the centre of your underarm, laughing breathily at how you squealed and tugged against him. “Hey, you never answered the question.”

“IHI’M NOT TELLIHING YOU!”

He paused, fingers still poised to strike. “Why not?”

“Because this’ll get wohorse,” you coughed.

“Oho…” Peter’s smirking laugh made your stomach flip. “Ohoho…” He ducked his head around to look at your blushing cheeks. “I was talking about the first kiss,” panic struck your chest as he lowered his voice to just above a whisper and said, “but now you have me very intrigued.”

“W-wait. No. No Peter, I-”

“I mean, I thought this had to be it,” he scoffed and resumed tickling at your underarm with all five fingers. Cackling laughter burst through your lips, your eyes shutting tight once again as you submitted to your fate. You were stuck, there was no fighting back. That was, until he released your free wrist in favour of hunting down your most ticklish spot. “You gonna tell me?” He teased over your squeaks and cackles. “Seriously, if you don’t tell me, I’m going to have to find it myself,” he sighed sarcastically as you shook your head, indicating even if you had the ability to form sentences right now, no way in hell were giving him that sort of information. “Thankfully… you and I, we’re scientists. We’re good at experiments.”

“PARKER!” You managed to yell, pulling on your legs still trapped in his.

“So, let’s see…” With one hand stilled at your underarm, his other hand clawed into the side of your stomach. You lurched and barked out a laugh, your free hand wrapping around his attacking fingers. No sooner had you done so, he dug his wiggling fingers back in under your arm. You shrieked, burst into belly-laughter, and abandoned his stilled hand to fight off this new attack. “Hmm, interesting,” he mused. There was a shit-eating grin evident in his voice. Then, his plan sunk in: he was going to force your hand to reveal what was most unbearable. And so he did.

When you swatted at the attack under your arm, he turned the side of your ribs into his target. When you squealed and tried to crush your elbow against his hand, he shook his fingers into the same spot on the other side of your body - the one with the arm still stuck above your head. “Very interesting…” He laughed along with you as you twisted in vain, trying to hit at both hands at once. You sniffled and whined through the laughter bursting through your chest, reacting too hard to form a cohesive sentence.

“NAHAHA, I cahan’t- P-PE- NAA!” You tried to dampen your shrieks, but he was too damn good at this. After a particularly hard hit at the fingers drilling into the uppermost ribs exposed by your pinned arm, and a particularly loud shriek, you begged with just his name. “P-Pehehe… Peter!” You gasped, and he backed off.

“Answer the question,” he sang, shifting his fingers down to ready themselves at your sides should you choose to refuse. Despite the fact that he was removing all the air from your lungs, you couldn’t deny the fun of it all. It’s not like you got physical touch all that often, and certainly nothing as playful as this.

Your brief reverie was ended by Peter deciding you’d waited too long to answer, and him declaring this by digging his fingers into the sides of your stomach.

You screeched, hitting your hand at both of his while the laughter was once again forced through you. “I’m gonnaha GEHET YOHOU FOR THIHIS- EEP!” You squeaked, high-pitched giggles weakening you further as he skittered his fingers all around the sensitive patch in the very centre of your belly.

“More threats?” He gasped, taking your free wrist in one hand and pulling it away from where you were interfering with his current target. “Youhou just never learn, do you?” You giggled and squeaked as he made use of his unobstructed movement, alternating between prodding and scratching at the skin. “Now, that’s adorable,” he teased, moving his fingers closer to the centre to ghost along the exposed skin below your navel. Your giggles hitched up and you tugged on both of your trapped wrists, obviously trying to form some kind of words but failing miserably. Sensing this, Peter chuckled and halted. “How about now?”

You took the moment to catch your breath, resigning yourself to the reality that you’d have to disclose your secret to save yourself from him hunting down every ticklish place on your body. “Okay okay okahay...” You coughed. “Youhou… you win. Unweb me, and I’ll tehell you. But you ha-.”

“Shh!” His hand flew to your mouth and you both sat dead still. His head turned towards the hallway, his hyperaware senses alerting him to an impending visitor. “Dana’s coming,” he whispered, reaching up and ripping the webbing from your wrist before shoving it behind his back. “Tell me now or you’re getting it when she’s gone,” he grinned beside your ear as your limp arm toppled to your side.

“I hate you,” you mumbled and sighed, beginning to pull against his legs again. “Around my hip area. Like, if someone squeezes at the sides and stuff,” you admitted, blushing profusely. “Now, let me go before Dana thinks this is something else.”

“Well…” he started, wrapping his arms a little tighter around your waist. Your heart beat in your chest, hearing that cheeky lilt in his tone. “Isn’t that exactly what we need?”

“Peter, no-”

“Peter, yes.”

“Don’t you dare, Parker. I swear I’ll- nahAHA WAHAIT!”

He dug his fingers into your ribcage, attacking the place where your back met your sides with a pinpoint precision, just as there was a knock on the door. He ducked down to whisper, “This’ll sell it,” before he lifted his head and called “Come in!”

“Peheter nohoho, dohon’t lehet- AH!” You squeaked again and collapsed your head against his chest in defeat as he picked up the pace, slowly travelling one hand down your side with every few digs and squeezes. “Dahana hehelp!” You begged, tears of mirth forming above your flushed and grinning cheeks.

“So this is why you weren’t answering my messages,” she playfully glared.

“I-I’m sorry,” Peter sighed sarcastically. “I really am - you know, for distracting her like this, she just- woah, careful there!” He tugged you a little higher, both hands now dangerously close to your hips. “As I was saying… sometimes, when she won’t stop studying, I have to resort to drastic measures to get her to stop.”

Dana raised an amused eyebrow at your demise under Peter’s fingers and rolled her eyes with an endeared smile. “We get it - two are super cute together. Should I come back later?”

“Dohon’t leave me- PETER!” You squeaked louder and gripped at his wrists, trying to push his hands off course to no avail. “Pehete, PLEASE!”

“I’ll come back.”

“DANA!”

“Sorry, Dana,” Peter stopped his hands, allowing you to catch your breath. “It’s the sworn duty of a boyfriend to enact tickle torture in times like this.”

“That’s fair,” she shrugged. You shot her a death glare from behind disheveled hard.

“Okahay,” you panted. “I’ll stop for tonight, just- no mohore… please.” You gulped the air in, chest heaving with the exertion from bearing the brunt of Peter’s playfulness. He turned his head to grin down at you, you looked up at him with a glare that was betrayed by a smile you couldn’t hold back. You couldn’t hold back your blush either, or the way that you weren’t really trying hard to escape his arms.

“Ugh, you guys are sickeningly adorable,” Dana rolled her eyes and went to leave the room. “Seriously, the way you two look at each other… anyway - are we still on for tomorrow night?”

“Yeheah,” you coughed, then grumbled, “If I’m still alive.”

“I’ll keep her in one piece,” Peter promised as Dana grinned and shut the door.

You continued to catch your breath, taking the chance to swat at his leg with your now-freed hand. “Peter!” You scolded. “That was so embarrassing,” you coughed again, and found yourself subconsciously settling into his arms before remembering what you were doing. “Alright, we can stop studying now.” When you tried sitting up, his arm around you didn’t relent. “Peter.”

He lowered his voice to a whisper as he grimaced and said, “I have to try.”

“Huh?”

“The spot, I have to try the spot,” he whispered again and you felt him shrug apologetically.

Your eyes widened, you shook your head, whipping it around to look up at him as you giggled nervously, “No. Peheter you’ve done enough!”

“I-I’m sorry, but it’s necessary and-”

“It is not necessary, you just-”

“I mean, you can’t just tell me about it and then not-”

“You forced me to tell you! Peter!” You continued struggling as he shrugged again and started leaning sideways with you still in his arms. “Peter, plehease,” you pushed at his hands and squeaked when he turned himself to be partially pinning you face-down with his own body. “PETER?!” You held tight to his wrists as he started pulling one away, already giggling hysterically and groaning at the situation you’ve found yourself in. As he pulled his hand away slowly, but with very little effort, you realised there was no stopping him. The best you could do was to ask him to go easy on you. “Okay- OKAY, WAIT!”

He paused with his hand about to strike at your hip, his legs tangling tighter around yours as you squirmed in anticipation. “Yes?” He taunted in a sing-song voice.

“Okay,” you breathed out. “I’ll let you try, but- hey, don’t laugh at me!” You swatted at his shoulder behind you and tried to glower up at him.

“Oh, you’ll let me,” he laughed with a sarcastic edge. “That’s what this is - you calling the shots.”

“You have to let me tickle you too.”

“Sure.”

You hadn’t expected him to agree, which threw you for a loop. Just as you opened your mouth to stammer and come up with some kind of bargain for him to ease his torment, his fingers squeezed harshly around your hip and began digging into the susceptible place next to the bone.

Your face flew straight into the pillow close to your head so you could muffle the volume of your scream of ticklish ferocity. Your whole body flew into fight and flight, tensing and twitching and thrashing against the way Peter had locked you in his arms between him and your bed. After a gasp for air, you fell into silent laughter as you continued to writhe against him and his kneading fingers pressing and wiggling against your hipbone. You spluttered and gasped for air, the laughter trapped in your chest as the tears of mirth spilled over onto the pillow. When he backed off a little, only to flutter his fingers at the space on your stomach just above your hipbone, you pressed your face back into the pillow to muffle some of the boisterous laughter he was drawing from you. Your twitching and spluttering soon overcame your laughter and coherent struggling, so he stopped his tickling and laughed brightly near your ear, giving you a squeeze with his arms before slowly snaking them away from you. He laughed again when he saw how limp you’d gone, making some kind of comment about how dramatic you were, and how he’d gone easy on you.

It took you a solid half-minute to catch your breath and work up the courage to glare up at him. “You’re an ass,” you seethed, gritting your teeth in an effort to hide your smile.

“Ah, but,” he held up a finger with a cheeky smile, “We’ve certainly convinced Dana. Which means… we can stop studying.”

You rolled your eyes and pushed yourself up to sit, propped up on your hands behind you. “Well I’m not gonna argue with you,” you mumbled with a blush before casting a glance to your laptop. “I have some notes I wanna catch up on anyway so-”

He cut you off with a firm hand on the forearm you’d reached towards your computer, and a hesitant shake of his head. “When’s the last time you did something fun?”

“What d‘you mean? I have fun all the time.”

“No, I mean when‘s the last time your Friday night wasn’t spent studying?”

You sighed and looked away, knowing where this was going. “I find it very fun to keep my scholarship,” you said, and you two almost instantly traded unimpressed looks. There was no pretending it wasn’t a lame excuse.

“We’re going out,” he announced, letting go of your arm and standing up from your bed. “Let’s go.”

“Where?!”

“Anywhere but here, or the library, or the cafeteria,” he said with a somewhat worried, exasperated look. “You’re in desperate need of a break.”

You sighed with a scoff, “Peter, come on, I-”

“I’ll be right outside the door,” he stated, pulling his jacket on. “Get changed. If you’re not out there in five minutes, so help me-“ He chuckled incredulously, balling his hands into fists just below his chin before shooting them open for emphasis. “-I will hang you from the ceiling and tickle you so hard.”

Some noise between a scoff, a squeak and a whimper burst through your lips, bringing a grin to Peter’s cheeks. He slid on his beta web-shooter and wiggled his fingers at you before shutting the door to your room and waiting outside.

You silently laughed and shook your head at the ridiculousness of it all, sliding off your bed and replacing your long-sleeved shirt and leggings for some jeans and a nicer crew-neck. As you tied the laces of your shoes, you found yourself smiling, blushing, maybe more grateful for Peter than you ever realised you’d be. Sure, he was convenient, the perfect excuse for studying way too hard, but maybe he was what you needed in more ways than just a fake boyfriend.

You opened the door to your dorm as you slid your other arm into your jacket and snuggled it over your sweatshirt, giving Peter a smile that you wanted to look annoyed and fake, but you were pretty sure it just looked shy and endeared. He smiled back and when you turned around from locking your door he took your hand and laced his fingers through yours.

In a split second, you fought your gasp and your face morphed from surprise into sheepishness. “Right,” you laughed. “Gotta keep up appearances.”

“Yeah. Right,” Peter smiled, softer than before, and nodded. After a few seconds of hesitation, he pulled himself back to the moment and smiled wider. “Let’s go.”

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twordytings · 2 years

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FUCK FUCK FUCK I WANT THIS SO BADJRJDNKRNEKE

just living in my head of wanting to be tackled onto a couch and tickled and teased

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twordytings · 2 years

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does anyone else get ticklish sensitive as FUCK when they’re high cuz i do and when i tell u the lee mood was bad… it. was. bad.

#this is embarrassing #tickling #tickle community

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twordytings · 2 years

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want someone to force me to keep eye contact with them while they tickle the snot out of me😻😍💞💕💗💓💗🤭😍🧡🥰💞😍😝💗💓😻🥰💓😝💞😍😍💞🥰💗🥰🥰💓💓💞😝😝😻

#tickling #tickle community #lee mood #peepeepoopoo

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twordytings · 2 years

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not to be dramatic, but i’d be a better person if i got tickled on a regular basis

#yup <3

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twordytings · 2 years

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whoever sent that anon tease, ur mom’s a hoe

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twordytings · 2 years

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screaming crying and throwing up EVERYWHERE

Unconventional Ice Breakers and Equally Unconventional Comfort Methods

Eddie Munson x Introvert!ND!Reader

SFW; angsty to fluffy, lots of comfort, new friends to lovers energy, reader has ADHD + Autism

Words: 7883 (oops- jesusfuck- 💀)

Summary: After moving back to your hometown of Hawkins, Indiana, you find yourself connecting with a former classmate of yours that you didn't get to talk to during your time at Hawkins High. As you two come to realize how much you have in common, you open up to him about being a college dropout. In classic Eddie Munson fashion, he seeks to cheer you up and encourages you not to be ashamed.

Warnings: Non-graphic description of past depression + su*c*dal feelings (Though there's nothing explicitly detailed, please do not read if it might trigger you. Your wellbeing comes before a story on tumblr), mild diss*ciation, w33d usage is mentioned by both reader and Eddie (please skip if that makes you uncomfortable. There will be plenty of Eddie content that doesn't mention w33d), fear of failure, self doubt and shame, lots of cussing (as per usual), Eddie being his obnoxious dramatic self <3, fluffy tickles (this is a tickle fic after all which is really no surprise on this blog AHHSHDHF /lh) and lots of comfort, not canon-compliant

DISCLAIMER: The reader in this story is the same age as Eddie and has a mullet hairstyle, but it is neverspecified that their hair is a specific texture or type (being inclusive of fellow Black fic readers is my top priority) It's whatever style of mullet you want it to be. Hell, it could even be a wig! However you want it to look, is how it looks. All of the reader's experiences are inspired by my own experiences as an ND person (and my personal experience being a college dropout, though I am NOT explicitly telling my personal story here). Not everyone who's ND acts how the reader in this story acts. This story is not meant to romanticize mental health struggles, nor make light of how people find ways to stay afloat in the midst of them. (As someone who's been through my own mental health battles, my only hope is that people can find comfort in this story and be reminded that there's a calm after the storm). Also, I'm still not as familiarized with D&D as I want to be (my introvert self needs to find a group to play with), so in this fic, just envision Eddie is acting like he's straight out of a cheesy 80s fantasy movie when his theatrics jump out later in the fic, because he would absolutely watch those films.

*Spoilers for Stranger Things 4 (both volumes) under the cut*

You'd been standing frozen as you stared at the pathway that led to the front door of your childhood home, holding the last box of your valuables, yet to be carried inside. The house had received a fresh coat of paint, soft yellow in color, and in the window, you could catch a glimpse of the banner your loved ones had hung up in the living room.

~WELCOME HOME!~

the banner read, but you didn't feel welcome... The idea of that final trek up to the steps, felt akin to preparing to take the walk of shame. It was a shame you couldn't shake from your head. Despite your family being more than understanding, despite them, in a time where being misunderstood was running rampant like a plague, the shame you felt, the shame your mind haunted you with, would not shake.

The ringing in your ears, brought about by the complete silence that surrounded you, seemed so loud. It was so loud... so loud that you didn't even hear the rumbling engine of the van that had stopped on the street right behind you. As your eyes continued to stare forward, defocusing in the midst of your overthinking, you hadn't heard him calling out to you with concern lacing his voice.

The voice, now louder and closer, snapped you from your thoughts. "Hellooooo? Earth to strangerrrr!" You let out a shriek, body jumping violently before you whipped around and jumped a second time from how close he was, the box nearly slipping from your grip.

Before it could fall, another pair of hands were quick to steady it. You gazed at them, his fingertips nearly touching yours, and concluded that the silver rings that adorned them, along with the chain bracelet on one wrist and a watch on the other, seemed oddly familiar.

"I got you- it! I- got it- the box. Uh... Sorry about the scare. You were standing still an awwwfully long time. Are you good?"

"Y-Yeah... I-I'm... I'm okay..." The KISS shirt he was wearing caught your eye, though it was the black leather jacket and denim battle vest you knew you'd seen before. When you looked up at him to say thank you, the realization finally dawned on you. After the words left your lips, you were silent for a few seconds, gathering the courage to look into his eyes before you spoke again. "Eddie...? Eddie Munson, r-right...?"

Eddie's brows furrowed curiously, initially wondering how you knew his name. The gears stopped turning in his head and he let out a gasp that startled you briefly. He raised his hand with his finger already pointed. "Wait a minute... Do my eyes deceive me, or am I currently face-to-face with Y/N 'The Wallflower' L/N, the most brilliant mind, in the Hawkins class of '84, who's sporting a mullet~?"

"W-Wallflower!? I... Is that what people called me...?"

Eddie chuckled and shook his head. "Noho! Nooooo~ I never heard anyone call you that, don't worry. I-I didn't mean that as a bad thing, promise. You were just... as quiet as a church mouse in school, and I- maybe heard you talk loudly like- once, so..." he shrugged, making sure you had a steady hold on the box before he crossed his arms and let his hands rest beneath his shoulders.

"...the mullet does look nice. Suits you. A lot, actually."

"Thank you." You hummed in acknowledgement, setting the box down beside you, rocking back and forth on your heels as you tried to think of what to say. The silence was painfully awkward, and your often very quiet neighborhood did little to ease the tension.

Eddie opted to make another attempt at breaking the ice. "Have we- ever actually spoken to each other? Like, before now?"

"I..." you knit your brows as you pondered. You couldn't think back to a single time you two had spoken, and Eddie, who already knew the answer, was chuckling. "N-No... We dihidn't! Wait! Hohow?"

"Sahahame age, same grade, eheven had quite a few classes together, buhut we never had a conversation. Funny, isn't it?" He smiled impishly and leaned a little closer, his expression growing serious and his voice lowering in volume. "Were you afraid of me~?"

Were you? Had you been? Was he mad? Annoyed? The question gave you butterflies, and you quickly shook your head in a slight panic, worried he was truly upset with you as you struggled to read his tone. "What? No! I... I wasn't afraid, I just..." Your words trailed off upon seeing that he was laughing again.

"IhIhI'm just teasing you~"

You could feel your face growing a little warm from embarrassment, eyes darting down to the pavement as you tugged on your sleeves. "Right... right... Sorry..."

Eddie tilted his head sideways as he waited for you to look up again, offering you a warm and reassuring smile, his hair beginning to fall in front of his face. You couldn't help but return it, before looking down at the box on the ground. "You back in town to stay? Or are you just visiting?"

The shame that had been churning in your stomach several minutes before, that for a short amount of time, lay dormant, bubbled up to the front of your mind again. "I... Um... I'm back in town to stay..." You were hoping he didn't ask you to elaborate further. Much to your relief, he didn't.

"Wellll, would you maybe... wanna catch up, or something? At some point? Y'know? IhI say catch up, when really we'd finally be getting acquainted. Maybe we can actually get to know each other?"

Eddie's question caught you off guard, and in the process, briefly interrupted your shame, and as your body responded to the sudden joy, you began to bounce on your heels. "Yeah! I-I'd uh... I'd like that, actually."

Your eyes seemed as though they'd lit up when Eddie caught a glimpse of them. He'd seen you happy stim before when you were in school together, but he'd never seen the endearing sight so vividly. His smile morphed into a grin and he nodded.

"Cool! Alright!" He clapped before pointing at you as he began to move backward toward his van, cussing when he nearly lost his balance upon stepping off the curb. "What do you say- SHIT! What do you say, we go grab some food tomorrow or something? I could pick you up. Maybe around four?"

"F-Four... yeah... Sounds like a plan!" You gave a rather awkward thumbs up, and Eddie laughed as he returned the gesture from his spot in the front seat, before giving a quick wave as he began to drive off. As your brain started to catch up with everything that had just happened, you blinked a few times, and took a breath before picking up the box.

You can do this... Last box... Your family's excited to see you... They're still proud of you... You're hanging out with someone tomorrow... You can do this... No shame... no shame...

Those words echoed in your head repeatedly. With one final inhale and exhale, you walked up the concrete pathway, and up your front steps.

***

Your eyes felt heavy as you attempted to talk yourself out of bed the following morning. You'd been surprised with your favorite dinner and dessert combo the previous night, which you accepted with hesitance. Not even your comfort foods could take your mind off of the impact of what you saw as your biggest failure. The sudden ringing of your morning alarm, made you violently flinch and scramble to hit the snooze. You'd woken up a mere three minutes before it had been set to go off.

Throughout the day, you felt as though you were losing yourself. It was as if your mind lagged behind your body. All you could think about, as you looked in the mirror and didn't quite see yourself looking back at you, was one word... failure... As time continued to tick by, you silently got ready, since somehow, you'd done nothing but blink and suddenly four in the afternoon was fast approaching. A soft, collared sweater was your top of choice, with comfy shorts of a soothing fabric.

"So, I ran into Wayne Munson at the market the other day." A family member said from the kitchen as you slowly put your shoes on. "Y/N, didn't you go to school with his nephew, honey?"

At first, the question went through one ringing ear and out the other, but after a few seconds, you registered the statement.

"Y-Yeah... yeah... Um... I'm hanging out with Eddie today."

"Oh? Old school friends catchin' up? IhI'm not teasing, I'm genuinely curious."

You finished tying your shoes and stood up to grab your bag, settling your building anxiety by pinching the fabric of your sweater sleeve between two fingers. "We never actually spoke in high school... S-So, I guess you'd call it new friends getting to know each other... right?"

"I'd say so," your relative said with a smile on her face. "You put that rock I gave you back in your bag, right? The... what was it called...? Sensory rock?

"I got it before I came back downstairs. Thank you for the reminder." Your body jolted with a burst of adrenaline upon hearing the knock at the door. It hadn't been loud, or obnoxious, but your hypersensitivity was in full swing and it left you jumpy.

Eddie was all smiles when you opened the door, and gave a little wave with his hand as he greeted you. "Hihi. Ready to go?" The quiet thumping of your younger cousin running to the door had given you time to brace for them bumping into your leg.

"Mama! Are you and the rest of the grownups aware that a cute guy with funny hair is taking Y/N out?"

Eddie's brows knit together, but he began to chuckle. "Fuhunny hair?"

"They know! And I am a grownup!" You exclaimed quickly, shaking your cousin off of your leg and tugging at your sleeve as you moved to step outside with your former classmate.

An elderly family member guffawed from the living room, which travelled down the tall ceilings of the hallway. "Have fun, baby! Make sure Eddie says hello to his Uncle Wayne for me!"

"He knows my uncle?"

The answer to Eddie's question came seconds after he'd asked it far too quietly for anyone except you to have possibly heard him. "From work!"

"IhI will, love you all, bye!"

"You're gonna dip without introducing him?" Oh boy. You gave Eddie an apologetic look, but he only grinned as your little cousin led him to say hello to the rest of the house. You knew your family wasn't uptight or judgmental, nor did they buy into Satanic Panic, but still, your worries weren't eased right away. When Eddie ended up with an invitation to Friday's dinner and family game night, you knew right then and there that you'd had nothing to worry about after all.

Thirty minutes passed by, and when you'd actually stepped out the door to walk to Eddie's van, you took a deep breath. "I'm so sorry..."

"Don't be! Dohon't be. Your family's really kind." Eddie was smiling bright as could be, taking energetic and funky little strides toward the passenger side of the van, which he held open for you, offering his hand for support as you stepped inside.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure." Eddie hopped into the driver's side, resting his hand on the wheel. "So... This hangout is completely zero pressure and whatever you want to do, so... if you wanted to eat in somewhere, we could do that. If you want to get food to-go and just eat it wherever, I'm down."

The van was quiet as you pondered. "Um... C-Could we... Take our food to go...? And just be somewhere with less people...?"

"Absolutely, we can. You don't mind listening to Black Sabbath on the way, do you?"

Eddie's question had you smiling involuntarily, wrists shaking with suppressed joy. "Orchid is my fahavorite song."

His eyes widened, before his brow furrowed, head tilting in your direction, starting the car and pulling out a Black Sabbath cassette tape which he briefly fiddled with. "Are you telling me that not only is the Hawkins Wallflower sporting a mullet, but they're also a metalhead!?"

"Y-Yes...? Is that... a bad thing...?"

"No! No. IhIt's... it's wihihicked, actually! What uh, what other bands do you listen to?"

The entire time you were driving to get food, Eddie listened eagerly as you info-dumped about all the metal bands you listened to, and at one point, the two of you were head banging to Detroit Rock City, the music far too loud in your ears to be bothered by an elderly couple gaping in horror in the car next to yours.

Another half hour passed by after that, and as you held your food in your hands, the two of you trekked through the woods, venturing to your hangout spot of choice, Skull Rock. It was quiet enough, and oddly peaceful despite its eeriness. Despite the many moments of joy in the evening thus far had helped to distract you from your woes, they were still sitting at the back of your head. The ringing in your ears was still there. The pressures you felt were subconsciously building.

Eddie had been telling you about one of his concert experiences when the ringing became worse. He saw the way your stimming had changed, and recognized it as a sign of stress, one he'd noticed when your class was taking tests or if the room became too noisy.

"Hey. Y/N... are you alright?" It felt as though you were hearing Eddie from several feet away, instead of right next to him. You fiddled with your sensory rock, which sat in your open bag, and took a few seconds to ground yourself.

"Um... Y-Yeah... just... I know we're far from them now but... I was just, overwhelmed by big groups of people today... I-Including my family... I know that's mean to say..."

"Wehell, they love you, and you've definitely made them proud. They'll survive if you need a breather from thehem. I promise."

Made them proud... You didn't feel that way... not one bit... and it was eating away at you now...

"IhI... I don't know about that..."

"Are you kidding me? I can see in their eyes how proud they are!"

"They shouldn't be, Eddie... They really shouldn't." You could feel the pressure in your chest growing heavier the longer the conversation carried on. It became too much. You couldn't skirt around your guilt and shame any longer.

"What could you have possibly done that would make you think your family shouldn't be proud of you-"

"I didn't graduate!" Your outburst was just as surprising to you as it was to Eddie. He'd almost never heard you raise your voice above an indoor speaking level in school. "I-I'm so sorry... I... I didn't graduate college, Eddie."

Eddie smiled in disbelief at the sorrow in your eyes. "Thahat's okay-"

"No... No it isn't. Th-That's... This isn't okay..." You saw Eddie tilt his head in your peripheral vision.

"Do you... wanna talk about it...? Y/N...?"

"It's... so much, Eddie. I don't want to burden you with this. I-I... I really don't..."

You wanted to keep the shame to yourself. You wanted to. But you couldn't...

"Y/N. If you need someone to ramble to, about anything that's on your mind, I'm here. I'm sittin' right here, and I'm not going anywhere." The air was near silent, save for the distant sounds of birds calling to each other in trees, and the crunching of the grass beneath your shoes when you rocked your heels.

"I don't know what happened, Eddie... I... I fell behind in everything... The more time passed, the more I... the more I just..." The tears you had been fighting to hold back, the tears you had been trying to will away, to dry up and disappear, finally fell, and poured out in long streams down your cheeks. "The more I... thought th-that... things would be better... if... if I was gone..."

You hugged your own arms tightly and closed your eyes, too ashamed to look up at your former classmate while your body rocked back and forth.

"Y/N-"

"I spent everyday, of college... more high than sober... Every... hour... that I was awake, I was smoking weed," You rambled, leg bouncing rapidly and body moving in distress automatically. "I'm not ashamed of it, please don't think that I am... I'm not against marijuana usage or anything... I just... I wish it hadn't taken being high all the time, just to keep me here. It was... it... it was the only thing that kept me floating, when all I wanted to do, was s-sink."

Eddie was silent as he looked at you. Never in a million years would he have guessed you went through something like that. You'd always been hyper-vigilant about doing well in school, at one point a teacher even suggested asking you to tutor him. He'd had no clue how to approach you. Neither of you had even spoken to each other at that time.

He'd seen the brightness in your eyes the day you graduated. A student with highest distinction, accepted into your dream college and hopeful about the future, now broken and in tears with your future feeling like a lost cause. You realized he'd been looking at you, and you hastily wiped your eyes with a hollow laugh. "S-Some star student I turned out to be, right...? I... I only made it halfway..."

"Y/N-"

"I-I've embarrassed myself enough, Eddie... I don't... I don't know why you wanted to get to know me... This... This is me... I'm a college dropout... All my potential... it... it was wasted... It is wasted..."

Eddie couldn't let you continue on. "Can I tell you what I've been doing since you graduated, Y/N?" He waited until you looked up at him before he spoke again, and even then, he was silent for a few moments, wondering if what he said would provide you any comfort at all.

"E-Eddie...?"

"I've still been trying to pass senior year..."

"What...?"

Eddie leaned closer to elaborate. "Yeah... I was held back again. I'm the last person, who'd ever judge you for being a college dropout. You have nothing to prove, Y/N. You're... you're brilliant, alright?"

"You're wrong, Eddie. That's wrong. I-I... I'm not."

"Yes, you are-"

Your words came out louder than you'd meant them to through your pained sobbing. "No, I'M NOT! I-I'm not... I'm just living proof that church mice and wallflowers don't make it anywhere..."

Eddie's heart sank even more upon hearing those words leave your mouth. He began to wonder if that nickname had only hurt you more. In your peripheral vision, despite your tears blurring your sight, you saw Eddie offering a hand. With a deep breath, you took hold of it and squeezed it.

"I'm sorry, Y/N."

"For what, Eddie...? You didn't do anything wrong... I'm the failure here..."

"No, no... You're the farthest from a failure someone can be. I never meant to discourage or hurt you with those nicknames. If I'm responsible for shaking your confidence at all today, I'm sorry. You've been through enough and... I made that worse-"

"No, you didn't, Eddie. I swear, you didn't. I've... just spent a long time trying to keep myself hidden. I didn't want to be seen. I didn't want to be judged." You sniffled and wiped your eyes. "I'm just really surprised... I didn't expect to be seen by anybody... I-I really didn't expect it when you asked me to hang out, because it meant that you saw me... A-And maybe that scared me a little bit... But, I really don't mind the nicknames."

"Are you sure, Y/N?"

You nodded firmly, before lowering your head. "I guess... if anything... I-I'm... I'm embarrassed that you ever had to see me like this, Eddie..."

"Are you fuckin' kidding me?" Eddie saw your eyes water and quickly assured you he wasn't mad at you. "Wh-What I'm trying to say is... damn it... Have you seen me, Y/N? I can't tell you how many times I've felt the way you feel... You're looking at the guy who's barely about to, maybe, finally pass senior year and graduate. The obnoxious nerdy 'freak' who carries the weed he deals in his fucking lunch box. You will never, ever, hear any kind of shame, from me, toward you... 'Kay...?"

"Eddie... don't... you don't have to..."

"I'm not gonna give you the chance to feel embarrassed about crying in front of me!" Eddie argued. "So, come on! What's it gonna take to get you smiling again? To get that little fucker known as 'shame,' to leave you alone for a while?"

"I-I don't kn-know..." you sniffled, staring down at the ground beneath you, tugging on your sweater sleeves. A fresh wave of tears fell from your eyes and you sobbed into your fabric-covered hands. "God! I-I'm *hic* such a crybaby!"

"Nononono, no, Y/N! You're not a crybaby. Y-You're... you're processing something heavy and... dammit. Please, don't be so hard on yourself."

Eddie was growing more distressed by the second over seeing you so unhappy. It wasn't usually so hard for him to help someone feel better. He'd become a natural at it; an expert, even. But, your mind was struggling to believe any of his words, and that worried him. He sat in front of you, mindful not to touch you in case it would make you uncomfortable, as he did his best to figure out how to support you.

"A hug? A stupid story? Give me something, please." Eddie moved closer, the panic in his voice evident as he tried to figure out how to make you feel better. Your sobs turned to quiet hiccups, but you struggled to think of something that could make you feel alright, and you silently shrugged, wiping your eyes. "Jokes? Funny voices? Stupid faces? Christ! I-I... I don't know what would help you, and I reallywant to help you... I don't want you to feel sad, Y/N. Shit... Tickling?"

He immediately noticed your breath hitch in your throat upon hearing his final idea, and he saw the faint hints of happy stimming in the way your body moved. Your eyes briefly shifted to meet his gaze, but as quickly as you'd looked at him, you looked away. "Hold on... what was that?"

"What? What w-was what...?"

"You know exactly fucking what~" Eddie pointed at you with a tiny smirk forming on his lips. "Are you ticklish, church mouse?"

"I... I-I don't kn-know!?" you stammered out, sniffling and wiping your eyes. "What d-does this have to do with- why did you- I... I'm not-"

"Ticklish~?"

His sudden utterance of the word caused a squeak to leave your mouth. "Stop saying it!"

"Why? Is it giving you butterflies or something?" Eddie's tone was growing increasingly playful in nature, and he stood up, holding his hands up cautiously and pointing at you, eyes widening. "Carefullll~ They say there's a terrifying presence out in these woods. An all powerful being... A magic user... who replenishes his power, with the sweet... sounds... of... laughter~!"

You jumped when he leaned forward, inhaling with a loud gasp and tucking your arms close to your chest, a giggle slipping out. "Eheddie!"

"Shh! He can hear you~" Eddie whispered, looking around as though he were expecting something to jump out. "Some folks even claim, that he can possess whatever living human being he desires, to carry out his bidding~"

"E-Eddie..."

"Something tells me he's been keeping a verrrry watchful eye... on a certain tearful hero, sitting juuuust beneath... Skulllll Rock~" When he suddenly turned to look at you, you couldn't help the stim that took over your hands, and you attempted to stay composed by once again tucking your arms close to you. He leaned closer again, crouching down so he was at eye level with you, and his voice became hushed and genuine in tone. "I'm not actually gonna do anything unless I have the alright from you. Okay?"

You bit your lip and pondered briefly. The shame was so trapped in your head, so heavy on your person, that you knew a major distraction was needed. Your brain needed to focus on something else. It needed to. With a deep breath, your leg bouncing rapidly, you looked up at him.

"I... I really need the distraction... You can... You can... you know... You have the alright from me..."

Eddie's eyes remained gazing at you, his expression seemingly stuck. You furrowed your brows curiously, tilting your head as you looked at your friend frozen in place. "Eddie...?"

All of a sudden, his eyes rolled back, he clutched his head with both hands, and keeled over with a roar, making you jump and shriek. "It's- GAHHH! He's... he's got me, Y/N! FUCKIN- CHRIST! Hurry! Run! Before he-" He let out a low and gravelly scream through grit teeth as he exaggeratedly writhed and kicked in the leaves on the ground. After a moment, his body was still, and his head whipped in your direction to look into your eyes with a blank stare, his lips having curled into a smirk. The expression on his face was nearing feral.

You felt your heart flutter and skip, still frozen where you sat. "Eddie...?" The moment he spoke, a wave of chills washed over your body.

"I'm afraid you're mistaken, Y/N~ Eddie Munson is now merely a vessel, for the being only ever before described, as nothing. but. a. myth. You, my adventurous wallflower, are now face-to-face... with the Evilllllll... Overlorrrrrd..." he slowly lifted his hands before teasingly wiggling his fingers in the air, "...of tickling!"

The loud squeak you let out had been completely involuntary. Your eyes widened when he took a couple steps toward you, feeling the nervous laughter bubbling in your throat and up to the roof of your mouth. He suddenly lurched forward, with his hands resting on his knees, making you shriek and stim with your legs, your hands covering your mouth to muffle the giggling that he'd startled out of you.

"I have one question for you to answer~ Since it is evident that you are doomed to laughter, I'll let you make this decision for me." Eddie stood back up, and slowly paced in front of you, hands clasped behind his back. "You can attempt the hero's journey; run, hide, or fight... It doesn't matter in the end, but you can try it~ Or, you can continue sitting still, like you are right now, and accept your fate, instead of prolonging the inevitable. Which do you choose?"

"W-Whahat!?"

"Try and run, timid adventurer, or surrender to your destiny. Which. Do. You. Choose~?"

It took a few seconds for you to decide, and even then, you weren't quite sure what you were doing, but you slowly stood up, and began to back away, the sound of the leaves and dirt only amplifying in your ears due to yours and Eddie's silence. "Well then~ A chase it shall be~"

An evil cackle tore its way from Eddie's chest and echoed in the trees, which sent you squealing and running to the other side of the rock. You noticed a lack of running noises in the dirt behind you, and turned back. Eddie wasn't anywhere to be seen.

"E-Eddie...?"

You let out a loud and shrill scream when Eddie jumped in front of you with a startling cackle, wrapping his arms around your waist and wrestling you to the ground.

"EDDIE! You don't play fair!"

"Oh on the contrary~ I did chase you. I just never told you how long or short the chase would be~" He gently took hold of your wrists, and slowly moved them to hover above the ground by the sides of your head. "Now then- play along- I shall cast a spell, and pin these hands, right by your head."

As he emphasized the word, he set your hands down, and, to play along, you kept them there. He was taking his act so seriously that you almost wanted to laugh then and there.

"As evil a being as I am, it's still vital that you're feeling comfortable. If you do not feel alright with me using my hands directly on your skin, I'll respect your wishes." Despite still acting in character, you knew he was reassuring you that he would not cross any of your boundaries.

With a bite of your lip, and a timid huff, you averted your eyes at first, but, to make sure Eddie knew that you weren't feeling pressured, that you were okay with the slightly more intimate affection, you met his eyes once more and answered, awkwardly attempting to tell a joke in your response. "I don't m-mind... It's okay. I-I'm... kihinda... kinda fahahated to l-laughter either wahAHAYYY!"

You couldn't help the nervous squeak when Eddie carefully moved his hands under your sweater, feeling his hands just centimeters away from your torso. "I hope you're prepared to laugh hysterically, you endearing little church mouse."

His pointer fingers began to trace slow, light patterns up and down the skin on your sides, making your nerves jolt, the giggly whimper that left your lips causing you to swear under your breath with mild embarrassment. The smile on his lips was growing wider, dimples and all.

"Mmph- hmhm... ohoho nohohoho! Pffft! Shihihit! ShihIHIHIT!"

"Something tells me that you've just realized you're far more ticklish than you thought you were, my helpless mortal~" His tone was low, the vocal fry in his voice only making him sound more menacing. "I wonder if I... Ah? Ahhhhhh? Uh huhhh~"

He'd begun to brush more of his fingers over the ticklish spots, a grin creeping onto his face as he kept them wiggling agonizingly slowly. A small yelp leapt from your throat in response to the ice cold sensation of the rings making your nerves jump and causing goosebumps to form.

Eddie chuckled mischievously, the sound of which had your ears tingling and growing hot. "Dohohon't laugh! Thehe r-rihings a-are f-fREHEEZING! Mhmph!"

"You can't hold in all of your giggles forever, you darling mortal. Oh~? Another squeak? You do realize, I've only just begun, yes? This overlord has a loooooot of mana to recharge~"

Just as you opened your mouth to retort Eddie's cheesy theatrics, the ticklish sensation grew fivefold.

"EheheheHEHEHEDDIEEHEEE!" A snort soon followed your loud cackle of laughter in response to Eddie spidering all of his fingers on the bare skin of your sides. Your shoulders pressed into the ground as your back arched, and you twisted your torso. "OHOHOH MYHYHY GAHAHAAWWWWD! *snort* SHIHIHIHIIIT! IHIHIHIT'S *hic* SOHO MUHUCH WOHOHORRRRRRRSE!"

"I'm afraid Eddie can't hear you, you giggly little mortal. Must I remind you, that he's been possessed by me~ And, the more you wiggle like a rabid earthworm, the worse it's gonna tickle~ Which is no issue for me, considering my magic replenishes eiiiiither wayyy~" How Eddie was taking his character so seriously, you had no clue. What you did know, is that your cheeks and ears were hotter than a flame, and your stomach had become a butterfly garden.

He snickered, watching fondly at how rapid your happy stimming had become. It was evident that you were trying your hardest not to clamp your arms down to your sides, as your arms twitched when Eddie moved to a particularly bad spot. "It seems that the ticklish mortal cannot withstand even a fraction of my attacks~ However, my spell doesn't appear to be strong enough to keep your hands piHIHINNED- HOHOLY SHIHIT! I was soho right~"

You'd let out a loud squeal and kicked your legs, unable to stop your hands from shooting down to instinctively hold onto Eddie's wrists as his thumbs dug into your hips. He watched you carefully, noting that you weren't actually trying to push his hands away, but you had tightened your grasp to bear with the sensation.

"NohoHOHOOOOAHAHAAAAA! *hic* STAHAAAAP!"

Eddie stopped instantly, though he grew briefly confused by the near sad expression that graced your face. Christ, you were adorable, and he couldn't stop thinking about that fact. "You okay...?"

"I-I... I d-didn't actually mean..." You were growing embarrassed by your own words, and you partially covered your face with your hand. "I-It... U-Um... Reflex... F-Force of habit... I... S-Sorry..."

Much to your surprise, Eddie gently moved your hand away, and back down, holding onto it a little longer before he let go just so he could see you stim by running your thumb over his rings again. "Y-You... uh... want me to keep going?" When you nodded, he began to smile.

"I-I'll... f-figure out h-how to... tell you when I-I really c-can't laugh anymore..." Your avoidance of simply saying 'When it tickles too much' did not go unnoticed by your now-smiling new friend, whom you gazed at nervously as you waited for him to say something.

A screech left your mouth when Eddie's thumbs suddenly began digging into your hips again, cackling obnoxiously and making you scream a second time, giggles spiking in pitch and intensity. "PFFFHEEEEEEEEEEE! SHIHIHIT SHIHIHIT SHIHIIIIIIIIT!"

"As per your request, my darling giggly hero, though I may be an evil overlord, in the interest of ensuring you don't laugh yourself to death, I'll give you a lifeline~" Eddie paused his hands, but kept them on your hips, and though unmoving, you still felt the sensations and couldn't keep from squirming. "If you want to save your friend, Eddie, from my possession spell, and free yourself from my clutches, all you have to do, is say 'tickler, be gone!'"

"W-Whahahat!?"

Eddie hummed before his fingers moved to hover above your belly, where your shirt had ridden up from all the moving. "Three little words~ I know you can do it~ It doesn't have to be now by any means, however." He lifted his pinkie finger, before setting it down and lifting the next, smirking at the way your torso twitched each time he drummed his fingers over your skin.

Once you had looked up at him again, he winked at you, before rapidly clawing at your belly and grinning over how much you were suddenly happy stimming with your body.

"NOHOHOHOT *snort* FAHAHAHAHAIR! NONONONOHOOOO!" You began taking sharp gasps of air between your laughter, hiccuping and squeaking with utter mirth. It took nearly a minute to calm down when Eddie eased up to let you breathe.

The stray hiccupy giggles that came out with after each inhale were an utterly darling sound to Eddie's ears. "I think it's time I give your poor sides and tummy a bit of a break~ I've still got quite a lot of mana to recover. Though, lucky for you, that stray symphony of mirth that continues on even when I'm not actively tickling you, can still be fed on~"

Eddie's eyes softened at the giggly whimper that his statement drew from you. Your hands were hyper with giddiness, a stark contrast to your body, which had become relatively still (save for the rising and falling of your belly) in the leaves and grass as you awaited Eddie's playful attack again. You twitched and squeaked every few seconds when the grass brushed your sides.

"Perhaps I should tell you a little bit about myself, you giggly mortal~ Would you care to hear a little tale about the Evil Overlord of Tickling?" He teasingly wiggled his fingers in the air to add dramatic flair to his words. Despite your initial squeak, you shyly inquired.

"Whahahat ahabout hihim?"

"For many millennia, long before you and my current vessel even existed, the Overlord has been a very misunderstood creature. He's watched, as the fables, the bedtime stories, twist and morph to make him sound meaner, and scarier." You saw the corners of Eddie's mouth falling downward despite his attempts to fight it. He stared at the ground, clasping his hands as he rested his elbows atop his knees. "He began to internalize it... he stopped disputing the rumors and judgement that came hand in hand with it. He saw himself, as an outcast... a freak... a monster..."

Your brows were knit as your mind began to read between the lines. "W-Wait..."

"...but what they didn't see, was the broken soul... not understanding why he was shunned by everyone else... They didn't see him fighting hard to make sure he didn't end up like his father... Didn't see him trying to prove himself, to everyone... by not giving up, when he didn't graduate the first time..."

"Eddie..."

"They also never saw, that his desire to bring mirth and merriment to those around him, came from a place of not knowing how he could have either of those things, for many years of his early life..." Eddie cleared his throat and wiped his eyes, taking a breath as he willed himself to say what he wished to. "And the one thing, he wouldn't let them, nor anyone else see, was that the moment his eyes landed upon the ethereal... mysterious, wallflower... sitting at his table in his freshman year English class, the Overlord felt his heart fluttering. And that flutter, lasted for days... weeks even... months..."

You began to sit up, palms planted firmly in the grass, eyes wide, as you'd fully realized what Eddie was truly trying to tell you. "Eddie...?" He glanced at you, and you jumped, but you outstretched your arm, and timorously offered him your hand.

Eddie took a deep breath and chuckled when you began stimming with his rings once more, even using his silver chain bracelet every so often. "When the Overlord reunited with that wallflower, a few years later, and finally got to talk to them, well... he realized, that the fluttering had never stopped."

You were too nervous to speak, so you gave his hand a quick squeeze with the most mild strength.

"The Overlord just wants his new friend to know, that their value, and their worth, should not ever be determined by their shortcomings. No matter how many times people may have told them, or how many times they may have told themself..."

"What if... what if it takes forever for the wallflower to believe that...?"

Eddie gave a soft smile and raised his brows before smirking at you cheekily. "I suppose that in the meantime, the Overlord will just have to make you giggle your troubles away~"

Your eyelids quickly lifted at those words, and you let out a loud squeal when he suddenly growled and wrapped his arms around your shins. "EHEHEDDIE! EDDIHIHIE! DOHOHON'T YOU DAHAHAHARE! EEEEE!" With a low stubborn grunt, you tried tugging one of your legs free and succeeded, but, it had been at the cost of one of your shoes, which Eddie tossed out of reach, leaving you with only a shin-high sock to protect from the playful attack.

"How many times must I tell you, mortal? 'Eddie' is currently occupied by an ancient tickling creature- GOTCHA!" He exclaimed, catching your ankle and locking it in his elbow with a triumphant guffaw. "WOAH! You kick me and that second shoe is coming off. IhI'm warning you~"

"Whyhyhyhyhyyy!" You half-heartedly tugged at your trapped ankle, one hand already happy stimming from the anticipation.

"Well, I was gonna go for your knees, but, uh... well, I'm not the one who yanked my own shoe off. Is it that bad a spot~?"

"IhI dohohon't kn-knohow!?" How convenient it was that seconds later, you did find out just how bad a spot it was. Eddie trailed one finger up your sock, eyes going wide when you let out a scream and snorted, slowly sinking back into the grass while your abdomen shook with hysterical giggles.

"So it appears the answer to that question was yes~ If one little trace along your foot through fabric is this bad? Well. That's just more laughter for me~"

"NononononoNONONOHOHO! OHOHOH MYHY GAHAHAWWWWDAHAHAHAAA!" It took mere seconds for you to be reduced to silent laughter when Eddie spidered all of his fingers along the bottom of your foot. You stomped your free foot on the ground, happy stimming in overdrive and hiccuping from your mirth. "EHEHEDDIE! *hic* IHIHI *hic* CAHAHAHAHAN'T!"

"Remember the spell if you need it, adventurer~" Eddie's sweet reminder had your face growing hot. "I must say though, I'd be quite content with tickling you to bits for the remainder of the day~"

"IhIhIt's sohohoho bahaHAHAaAaAD! IHIHIT'S SO BAHAHAHAD! IhIhIt TIHIHIHICKLES! AHAAAAAAA!" You let out a scream when he traced his fingers over the top of your foot.

"HOLY- Wohohoah~ Really~? It tickles~? I'm baaaarely spidering my fingers~ Are you sure it tickles, you adorable mortal~?"

You had been far too giggly to notice that Eddie'd released your ankle, only to turn himself toward you and lock your legs with his in record time. "H-Hehey- Wahahait- wahaHAHAaAaAIT! Nohohot thehehere- EHEDDIE!"

"Evil. Overlord. Of Tickling." Eddie made sure you could see he wasn't truly mad despite his grit teeth. "You're in trouble, my adventurous wallflower~"

He spider-crawled his fingers up your legs at an agonizingly slow pace, making your hands flap rapidly as you giggled nervously. Your legs were covered in goosebumps and they twitched from the ticklish trailing. The moment his nails brushed against the skin on your thighs, right above the inner sides of your knees, your stomach turned with butterflies and your squeak echoed.

"Oh? Hmmm? UH HUHHHHH~!" Eddie chuckled darkly before grinning impishly over your reaction to the tickling. Your laughter was the most intense he'd ever heard, and for a split second, he was worried you might run out of air.

"OKAHAHAHAY!" You cried after a few seconds. "SHIHIHIHIT! *hic* OKAYOKAY! *snort* TIHIHICKLER BE GOHOHONNNNE!"

In an instant, like he promised he would, Eddie ceased the playful torment, withdrawing his hands and freeing your legs from his. He clutched his chest dramatically, rolling back his eyes before falling to the grass beside you, making a silly croaking noise that caused you to giggle all over again. Upon "waking up," Eddie grinned.

"Phew!" He wiped the nonexistent sweat from his forehead. "You banished him... But, considering you're giggling like mad and missing a shoe, it appears the Overlord replenished all of his mana by tickling you to tears before you could recite the spell, right~?"

You hadn't even noticed your tears of mirth, but hastily wiped them with your sleeve. When your eyes met Eddie's, you couldn't stop yourself from giggling even harder. He laughed softly, before offering his hand to help you sit up.

"I-IhI got it... Th-Thank you though, Eddie..." Eddie didn't take any offense, as you'd made him aware that you could get touch averse sometimes, and he was more than understanding that all the tickling must have been a lot to deal with.

"How are you feeling...? Honestly?"

"Gihiggly... but... behehetter than I've felt in years..." Your admission was genuine, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw Eddie beaming at you. "Thank you... IhI mean that... Thank you, Eddie..."

"Of course, Y/N. I gotta say, it's awful cute that you like tickles too."

"T-Too? Wait- You..."

"Yes. I'm well versed in the art~" Eddie said with a dramatic voice that emphasized how much of a nerd he was. "Got this whole 'Munson Doctrine of Tickling.' Kihidding. I dohon't have it. Not on paper at least~"

You hid your face in your hands momentarily and playfully swatted Eddie's leg. After a few minutes, as the two of you settled down, you found yourselves leaning on each other, the sky orange as the sunset was fast approaching, air feeling a little colder than it did half an hour earlier.

"Eddie..."

"Hm?"

"I-I'm sorry I didn't say this before, but..." you took a breath, and bounced your leg to recollect your thoughts, "...thank you, for opening up about yourself... You didn't have to... I'm- I'm glad you did, don't get me wrong, it's just that- well... I appreciate your vulnerability. And, I want you to know, that you've brought me a lot of joy in the one day I've spent with you so far... so, I know that the joy you bring everyday to people who know you the best, is too great a number to count. I-I want to help in some way, with anything, because I'm really thankful for you, so... if you did still need a tutor, I could... I mean... What I'm trying to say is... you're wonderful, and you deserve wonderful things... You're not a freak, Eddie, and I wish more people truly knew you..."

Your heart was racing, as you were fearful your words didn't come out right, but when you found the courage to look up at him, his large, brown eyes were softer than you'd ever seen them before. "I will absolutely take you up on that tutoring offer."

"R-Really?"

"Can we count it as a study date~?"

Your brows furrowed momentarily, and Eddie had to resist the urge to poke your nose. "Study- Wait... Do you like me...? I-I... I think I understood when you were telling the story, but... I don't want to have misread your tone..."

"Yeah... I... I do like you. I could see you, Y/N. I did, see you. I just, didn't want you to be frightened, by me-seeing-you. You, uh... looked a bit like a deer in the headlights whenever our eyes mehet in school." Eddie chuckled quietly, before leaning close to you. "You sure you weren't afraid of me~?"

"I wasn't afraid! I- Hey! Y-You're teasing..."

"IhI am. But not about liking you. So..." He bit his lip, and looked toward the setting sun. "Is there any specific time your family's expecting you back home by?"

"I-IhI, uh, never told them a time..."

"Do you... uh... wanna make the rest of this day a first date... maybe?" You could hear nervousness in his voice, and it left you momentarily flabbergasted. If the orange glow of the sunset had not been so strong, you would have seen the red adorning his cheeks.

Your heart was racing, body overtaken by the urge to happy stim, and you welcomed it with a nod of your head and a simper on your lips. Though you had a long way to go before the burden of failure would be lifted from your shoulders, for the rest of that day, your shame was nowhere to be found.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

EEEEEEEEEE 😖💕 FIRST FULL LENGTH EDDIE FIC ON THE BLOG 🥳 I hope this was worth the wait. I'm back in business and the Eddie Munson content train is a rollin' 🥰 (This fic- was so FLUSTERING TO WRITE AGSHHDJFJFJF)

I sincerely hope that this made y'all feel some joy today. You deserve joy, and you deserve to feel proud of yourself. I'm proud of you /gen /p

Love you all!

~ Ushu 🤍

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